


oh my, my, my

by dwreed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hunk's moms are living the lesbian dream, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life, Wedding Planning, cliches gallore fam, commitment issues, idiots falling in love, keith is just a florist trying to do his job, lance is a dream come true machine, this is really just me doing the real fanfic thing and catering to whatever the hell i want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-05-13 22:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14757345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwreed/pseuds/dwreed
Summary: “Keith’s a good guy.” Hunk, apparently, wasn’t going to drop the conversation to talk in-depth about Linda Bardesi. “The quiet type, but I think that compliments you. And an artist!”“I don’t see how Keith being an artist has anything to do with anything,” Lance deadpanned.“Every single time you rewatch Titanic you’re swooning over Jack’s art and how romantic he is.” Lance quietly begged Hunk not to, but his best friend was already on a roll; “I need a Jack to paint me like one of his French girls. I could die happy then.” His impression of Lance was perfect and Lance hated it.Or;Lance is a wedding planner that hates Valentine's Day and Keith is a bad boy with a flower shop.





	1. Autumn

**Author's Note:**

> i started working on this after watching the JLo movie The Wedding Planner during christmas. i think that speaks for itself.
> 
> also started this before we learned more about lance's fam, so. merp. enjoy anyways!

When Lance was little, his friend’s mothers’ would always complain about him having no free time; no free time to get ice cream on hot afternoons, no free time to go to the movies, no free time to go to the park. Most importantly, in their mind, was that Lance had “ _ no time to be a kid” _ . 

 

But honestly, Lance had  _liked_ being busy; between after-school programs and extra-curricular sports, Lance had dipped his toes into virtually anything he could get his hands on, save his mother had the means to provide it for him.

 

Lance wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up being a wedding planner of all things, considering all of his hobbies growing up, but that’s where he ended up. He thinks it came from enjoying being the president of the student government; running events and planning budgets and campaigning and communicating with people…

 

_ Come to think of it, perhaps it made sense.  _

 

The idea had struck him out of nowhere when Hunk had been the guy to propose to his  _ High School Sweetheart _ Shay on the day of their graduation. He’d accompanied Hunk to every appointment, had watched him agonize and fight with Shay’s brother (who was being more anal than Shay’s grandmother, which was a blessing and a curse), had watched Shay break down in tears over stress during the whole process, and then saw the wedding day go off without a single hitch. 

 

Lance had been Best Man, and he’d loved every minute of it. He’d craved more of it. 

 

So while attending community college and trying to figure his life out, he’d decided that maybe becoming a wedding planner was something he actually wanted to do. 

 

Google was his best friend the day he decided to pursue it for real.

 

So here he was, making commission for planning (or helping plan) weddings through his apprenticeship, hoping that he could run his own little corner of the business one day. That was like… the  _ dream.  _ To have his own place, and to have an at-home office. Lance didn’t think that was too much to ask. 

 

Even if weddings  _ did  _ make him on the verge of popping a blood vessel a few times. It was just something that happened when things get out of hand and planning goes awry or if there’s a very serious  _ Bridezilla  _ problem.

 

Although,  _ Bridezilla  _ was the opposite problem he was having with his current clients. 

 

Shiro and Allura were referenced from a friend of a friend, whose name Lance didn’t know, and had been exceptionally polite through the entirety of their first meeting. Lance had shaken each of their hands and then had been on his way with a full-service deal under his belt, and had felt accomplished that they would get things done in a timely manner if things went through the entire process just as swiftly. 

 

The only thing Allura had been insistent on was that there be lilies, and hadn’t cared what kind as long as they were pink. 

 

“They don’t have a very long bloom time, it might call for the wedding to be late-spring anywhere through late summer.” Lance glanced back and forth between Shiro and Allura as he scribbled into his notebook. They both looked at each other thoughtfully, trying to communicate without speaking. 

 

“That’s what you guys were thinking about anyways, right?” Matt, Shiro’s best man, chimed in then. Lance had forgotten he’d even come with them. He had a tendency to hyper-focus on his clients because if he listened to other people’s opinions all the time he’d never get anything done. 

 

“Yeah. That sounds great.” Shiro squeezed Allura’s hand, and Lance hummed thoughtfully as he began to write down a checklist for himself - get a list of pink lilies for Allura and send them to her so that he knows what to order, contact a florist, talk about bouquet arrangements, since Allura’s biggest concern seems to be the lilies, of all things. 

 

That was okay. There were plenty of florists with plenty of suppliers; he couldn’t really mess that up. 

 

“Since the only thing you’re entirely specific on is the lilies, did you want the color scheme to be pink? Or we could do something complimentary to them…” He trailed off, dropping his pen and going into the rolling bag at his feet to heft out a giant binder. 

 

“Something complimentary sounds nice. As much as I love pink I don’t want it to be too overwhelming…” Allura sat on the edge of her seat as Lance flipped the binder open. “I would like something sparkly if that’s at all possible.” When Lance looked up at her he’s pretty sure he saw  _ exactly  _ why Shiro was in love with her. 

 

_ Well, damn.  _

 

He smiled at her hopeful expression. “Something sparkly sounds perfect.” He grabbed at his pen to jot it down, and then began removing pages from the sheet protectors, eyebrows drawn together in thought. “Here are some color schemes I’ve compiled that should go well with the lilies, and here’s a pink one as well, so you can compare or if you change your mind.” He gathered them all up and had been about to tug out a folder for Allura but she already had one in hand. 

 

It was, indeed, a very blue and sparkly folder. Lance watched her place the pages in very carefully. 

 

“Thank you so much for this, Lance. We really appreciate it.” Shiro smiled at him earnestly as Allura waved the binder excitedly in his face. He took it from her to peek at the color schemes inside.

 

“Of course. I’m here to make it as easy as possible for you guys.” Lance leaned back on the couch and looked down at his checklist. “Okay… we talked about color schemes, we kind of talked about dates… we can begin working on invitations once we decide those things. And then we can move on to some other stuff like themes, and cake, and food and all that.” He was speaking more to himself, a mental checklist to accompany the physical one in his notebook, but Shiro and Allura were nodding along with him all the same. “When can we meet again? If there isn’t a good time for you soon we can always Skype.” 

 

Allura hummed and pulled out her own planner, glancing down at the dates in thought. “I teach early and late on Wednesday’s…” 

 

So no Wednesday meetings. Lance wrote it down.

 

“I have a business trip next week so I can’t do it then,” Shiro muttered. 

 

Lance flipped the page of his planner accordingly. “Well, I’ll be keeping in touch anyways. I’ll pencil you in for two weeks after next week, and we can decide day and time later. Give you some time to think.” 

 

Shiro and Matt both stood as Allura packed up her purse and looked at the watch on her wrist. “Oh! It’s that late already?” She stood and Lance followed suit to shake her hand. “Thank you for today. I have to rush out so I can teach class.” She jammed a thumb over her shoulder and Lance waved her off. 

 

“Of course. Have a good class.” He smiled upon her exit. Shiro rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Lance turned to him. Matt was right at flank. 

 

“I have a rather odd question to ask you,” Shiro admitted. Lance tilted his head to the side curiously, humming in affirmation and waiting for Shiro to continue. “I really want to surprise Allura by… actually learning how to dance, so that our first dance together can be more than just…” He frowned a bit as he searched for a word. 

 

“Rocking back and forth.” Lance finished for him, and Shiro nodded. “Does that mean you want a coordinated groom’s party dance, too?” Lance flipped his notebook back open as Shiro seemed to think about it. 

 

“I think Allura would like that.” 

 

Lance wrote it down into his notebook and chewed at his lip in thought. “Okay. I’ll contact a few people and wiggle the budgeting around a bit so that you can do that. That’ll be cute.” Lance smiled. 

 

“Man, you know I can’t dance to save my life, Shiro.” Matt sighed, and Shiro laughed good-naturedly. 

 

“Neither can I. This will be good for both of us.” He patted Matt on the shoulder as Lance finished packing up his bag. “Thank you, by the way. We really appreciate your help.” He held a hand out to Lance, and Lance shook it easily. 

 

“That’s what I’m here for. If you guys have any questions don’t be afraid to contact me. Text, call, email, what have you. I check everything hourly.” 

 

With the meeting wrapped up, Lance trudged his way down the sidewalk, staring at the app for his homework with disdain written on his features. The closer he got to finishing school the more he didn’t  _ want  _ to finish. The time, the papers, the homework… He was pretty sick of it. 

 

Lance breathed a sigh of relief when Hunk began calling to distract him, and he answered the call gratefully as he continued down the street. 

 

“Hey, Hunk. What’s going on?” He placed his phone between his shoulder and ear as he opened the door to his favorite coffee shop. 

 

“Hey, man! Nothing much, just haven’t heard your voice in a while.” Hunk’s voice was like music to his ears. Lance could feel all of the tension in his shoulders seeping out of his body. “I miss you. How’s everything going?” 

 

“Everything’s pretty good. Just been busy, you know? How about you? How are you and Shay?” Lance stepped into line. 

 

“Everything’s great! We’ve been pretty busy, too. But I’d rather be busy than broke, you know? I am itching for a break, though. I’m going to ask for some time off so that Shay and I can go on vacation, soon. Maybe do something really nice over Thanksgiving weekend. I’ve really been wanting to go to Cabo? I feel like everyone is going there and I want to understand what it’s all about.” Hunk hummed to himself thoughtfully. 

 

“Cabo sounds great. Is it good over autumn?” Lance’s eyebrows drew together. 

 

“I have no idea. I have to research it. I should do that…” He trailed off, and Lance could imagine him opening up his laptop and typing away on Google. 

 

“I have some research to do, too. I had a meeting today for a wedding I’m planning, and the bride wants everything centered around pink lilies so I have to go and look some up and send photos to her so I know what kind she wants. Oh, hold on I’m at the register.” Lance waited for an affirmation from Hunk before ordering his coffee - a pumpkin spiced latte with soy milk and whipped cream. “Anyways-”

 

“I was going to say that uh-. I know this guy, and he has a pretty cool florist shop. He’s sort of just started his business, so I think gaining some clientele might be nice. You should go check him out, I can send you his address and everything.” Hunk rushed, and Lance narrowed his eyes in thought as he stepped up to the counter to obtain his latte when they called his name. 

 

“Uhm… okay? I’ll check it out, I guess.” He laughed, confused. 

 

“And he’s single.” 

 

Lance groaned, sticking his headphones into the jack and placing them in his ears so that he can drink his coffee and talk at the same time. “Hunk, I told you I’m not looking to date anyone right now.” Annoyance was seeping into his tone.

 

“No, I know that. But you always say that, and then you get sad at weddings when everyone shows up and you’re the only person without a date.” 

 

“Ouch, Hunk.” 

 

“Sorry. But it’s true. Consider this an intervention. Shay, tell him that dating someone would be good for him. Oh, you’re on speaker by the way.” Hunk stated belatedly. 

 

“Hi, Shay.” Lance loved Shay, but he couldn’t help but sound like a grump because of the situation. 

 

“Lance! How are you?” Shay’s voice always made Lance feel some type of way; like he was a kid being tucked into bed by his mom, or like when someone you love pets your hair when you’re not feeling well. 

 

“Tell your husband I don’t need to date anyone to be happy, please. I’m too busy for a relationship anyway.” 

 

Shay hummed, seeming to give it some serious thought. “I think finding someone would be good for you. I’m always surprised you’re so against it, considering your occupation.” 

 

How was Lance supposed to tell her that anywhere between thirty to fifty percent of marriages ended in divorce? How was Lance supposed to tell her that marriage was an institution exploited for capitalism and that he was only a cog in the wheel? That her and Hunk were bound to get divorced within the first ten years of their marriage? That Lance wasn’t trying to become a part of the statistics? 

 

“I’m a dream-come-true machine, I know. But it’s like that because I’m not committed to anything else. So if Hunk could  _ please  _ stop trying to set me up I’d really appreciate it.” 

 

Both Hunk and Shay were quiet, and Lance almost felt bad. But only almost.

 

“I’ll talk to him. For business purposes only. Text me his information and I’ll get on it later.” 

 

Hunk sighed. “Fine, fine. I won’t push you about it anymore.” 

 

Lance knew that it was probably a lie, but knew he didn’t need to say it. They both knew in a few months Hunk would try to set him up with someone else and they’d have this conversation all over again. “I’m gonna get going, then. I have another appointment soon and I have to look over my notes.” 

 

“Okay. Talk to you later, buddy.” Hunk said. 

 

“Bye, Lance!” Shay chimed. 

 

“Bye, guys.” Lance hung up and took a deep breath, not even daring to look at his phone in his pocket when Hunk’s text-tone went off. 

 

Lance was happy that his next appointment was a dress-fitting, because it meant he couldn’t really think about other things while there. There were too many people around, and he had to be paying attention to what the boutique was selling his client, in case she decided to go with something out of their budget. It was nice to pay attention to work, and get lost in the excitement that was dress shopping. In the end, the bride hadn’t decided on a dress from the boutique, so Lance was back to square one with setting up an appointment with another place. He wandered back home as the sky began to turn orange and purple, getting another cup of coffee on his way back to the apartment he shared with his sister. 

 

“Val, I’m back…” He called out, eyebrows drawing together when he got no response. He set his coffee down and threw his keys, wallet, and phone onto the counter, glancing at the empty wine bottle on the counter. Lance sighed and threw it away, shaking his head as he made his way to her bedroom. “Val…” He knocked on the cracked-open door before pushing it all the way, and there she was, knocked out on her bed still dressed and an empty wine glass on her nightstand. 

 

There was this pattern with Valeria, and he’s sure if he talked to a therapist they would tell him his fear of relationships might partially come from her. 

 

She always fell hard and fast, and then the relationships would crash and burn for one reason or another. His sister was 26 years old and she had gone through two divorces already, and Lance had gotten to see her mental breakdowns for each of them. Every relationship ended with too much wine and a lot of tears, and since moving in with her usually Lance was the one to attempt to put the pieces of her back together. He tugged her shoes off of her feet and put them back in her closet, sighing as he grabbed the empty wine glass from her bedside table and looked down at her. Her face was tear-streaked with her eyeliner and mascara, the white pillow beneath her stained also. 

 

“Val, get up.” He shook her but she didn’t even respond. The only sign that she wasn’t dead was her deep breathing. He took the wine glass to the kitchen and then came back and tugged out some pajamas for her. “I said,  _ get up. _ ” He smacked her with a pair of silk shorts from her vanity and she groaned in protest, face scrunching up in the ugly way it always did when she was waking up. “At least take off your makeup,  _ pendeja. _ ” 

 

Valeria took the pillow from underneath her head to hit Lance with it, but was too slow and missed by a large margin. She was muttering so low that Lance couldn’t hear a word she was saying, but nonetheless, he grabbed her hands and dragged her so that she was sitting up. She slumped over, looking tired and pitiful. 

 

“Something happen with Brett?” He guessed, and she nodded, keeping her mouth shut. She would probably want to talk about it later, but Lance let her stay stuck in her thoughts just for the sake of helping her get ready for bed. 

 

He pulled her to her feet and pushed her towards the bathroom, handing her the pajamas he’d pulled out for her. Valeria didn’t respond as she closed the door behind herself and turned the shower on.

 

Lance set about heating up leftovers from his dinner the day before, scrolling through his messages as he waited and stopping on the text from Hunk. There were plenty of florists in the city; Lance didn’t need to contact this  _ one particular  _ florist. In fact, it would probably be better if he didn’t. He looked at the time and decided that regardless, it was too late to give a call. Lance should do some research before doing any of that anyways. 

 

_ Keith Song  _

_ xxx-xxx-xxxx _

 

He finished eating and then sat in bed, pulling out all of his homework and setting his glasses on his nose so that he could get to work. He could hear the shower turn off, hear Valeria exit the bathroom, and pretended not to notice her when she came into his room and climbed onto the mattress beside his homework. At this point she knew better than to talk to him while he was working, but that didn’t stop her from pushing his homework aside so that she could curl up against him. 

 

“You’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow,” he stated. 

 

“Shut up.” Valeria grumbled. She remained quiet as he started to type up a response for his homework. “How was your day?” 

 

“Fine. Normal. Hunk keeps trying to set me up.” Lance gave no energy to the answer, just continued to stare at his screen as he scanned over the article for his assignment. 

 

“Sounds like him. You should listen to him for once. It might do you good.” Valeria pinched his side, and Lance grimaced as he squirmed away from her. 

 

“I always listen to Hunk’s advice. Just not that.” Besides, coming home to see Valeria passed out from drinking an  _ entire  _ bottle of wine with mascara-tears on her face wasn’t making him want a relationship any more than he had already. 

 

“Mm. Whatever.” She shut her eyes, and Lance left her to it, not wanting to have a conversation about that any more than she did. 

 

Fate had a funny way of working out, so a week later Lance got a request from Shiro to go to his friend's florists’ shop for his and Allura’s order of lilies, and Lance found himself outside of  _ Panda Lily’s  _ on Wednesday afternoon while he had free time. Primrose, narcissus, forget-me-nots, and snapdragons sat under the awning, away from the gloomy October rain. Lance stared down at the narcissus curiously as he shut his umbrella and shook it out, wiping his feet on the welcome mat before he entered. 

 

The bell above the door tinkled joyfully with Lance’s entrance. It looked busier than he expected a florists’ shop to be, but it was probably because people were trying to get out of the rain. There were quite a few businessmen and women, looking at the display of bouquets, and a few old women who were chuckling over a box of sunflowers. 

 

“Hi, welcome to Panda Lily’s!” A voice chimed from behind the counter; a girl with large glasses atop her nose and two long braids over her shoulders. Lance wandered closer to the counter but continued to look at the flora as he went, taking his time. 

 

“Hi there,” he greeted. She looked familiar but he didn’t really know where he would recognize her from. 

 

“Can I help you look for anything specific?” Her attention diverted when one of the old women came over with a bundle of sunflowers, so Lance waited until she had paid and was done making small talk (it took almost 7 minutes, Lance had looked at his watch) before replying. 

 

“I’m here on behalf of Takashi Shirogane and Allura Altea. I’m their wedding planner.” 

 

The girl’s eyes lit up in interest. “Oh! Hold on just a moment, Keith knows all about that.” She disappeared behind the swinging door, leaving Lance alone with the businessmen and women who were debating pretty hotly over the bouquets in the refrigerator. 

 

With the exit of the rest of the customers, the place was pretty quiet, save for the music playing quietly over the speakers in the corners -  _ Iron & Wine _ . 

 

After a little while he could hear arguing from behind the swinging door, and as the voices got closer and louder he could begin to understand what they were saying. 

 

_ “Pidge, it’s just business-” _

 

_ “But he’s cute!”  _

 

_ “It doesn’t matter. I swear to god, Pidge-”  _

 

The door swung open. Pidge was toying with her counterpart’s dark hair and he was trying to wave her off, stumbling into the door and huffing in frustration. “Cut it out!” Dark-haired man hissed. 

 

“This is Keith. He’s going to help you!” The girl with braids waved at them and then disappeared behind the door. Lance could see her eavesdropping by the window. 

 

“Sorry about that.” The man, Keith, straightened out his black hoodie, disgruntled as he ruffled out his fringe and flipped it out of his face. Lance could feel his heart quicken in his chest, and he shook his head hastily. 

 

“No need to apologize or anything…”  _ God,  _ he sounded breathless. How pathetic. 

 

“I’m Keith Song, by the way. Shiro told me you’d be coming through.” Keith held a fingerless-gloved hand out to him, and Lance could feel the walls of his heart close vehemently, like the bars of a prison cell clanging shut. 

 

_ Keith Song _

_ xxx-xxx-xxxx  _

_ In case you change your mind! [: _ _  
_ _ \- Hunk  _

 

Lance swallowed thickly and shook Keith’s hand, trying to force on his best business smile. “Lance Espinosa.” He felt a little bit sick, but removed his bag from his shoulder and pulled out his binder anyways, taking a deep breath. “Okay, so. Allura decided on the-”

 

“Stargazer lilies, yeah.” Keith interrupted, flipping open his own notepad. Lance paused, perturbed at not being able to finish, but continued on anyway. 

 

“Uhm… yes. She’s also debating between periwinkle or mauve as the complementary colors for the rest of the wedding, so I was thinking that maybe-...” He trailed off as Keith rooted around under his desk, seemingly not listening to what Lance was saying. He continued on anyways. “Maybe we could use hydrangea or even snapdragons. Uh-...” 

 

The sound of Keith’s notebook flopping onto the table made Lance lose his thought, and Lance could feel his irritation spike accordingly. “Are you going to let me finish any of my thoughts or is interrupting people just your thing?” He snapped. 

 

The shop was horrifically silent, with Keith blinking owlishly at him as if he didn’t even understand what he’d been doing wrong.  _ Iron & Wine _ provided great contrast. Lance immediately felt uncomfortable with the situation he’d put himself in but didn’t apologize or take it back. 

 

“Is being  _ rude  _ your thing? I was listening to you.” Keith snapped back. 

 

“What was I saying then?” 

 

“Blah blah hydrangea, blah blah periweather and snapdragons. Alright? If you’d let me collect my thoughts for five seconds I already have some sample arrangements for you.” Keith angrily flipped open the notebook he’d been rooting around for, and sure enough, there were sketches of arrangements with the stargazer lilies that Allura had asked for. 

 

Lance, unwilling to admit that maybe he’d been wrong for snapping, dragged the notebook over to him and placed his glasses on his face, glaring at Keith before looking down at the drawings. There were arrangements already sketched out.  _ Allura Altea - Lilium Stargazers ¼  _ was scrawled at the top of the first page. Lance glanced down at the arrangements, studying them carefully. He shifted in his shoes. 

 

“These are quite good,” he admitted begrudgingly. “What, are you an artist or something?” He flipped the page to see the rest of the arrangements, lips pursed. 

 

“Yeah, actually.” Keith’s reply came short and blunt. Lance looked at him over the rim of his glasses to see Keith standing there leaning against the back counter, arms crossed over his chest defensively and looking away pointedly. 

 

“Well. It’s good.” It was forced, not because he was lying but because he was having trouble admitting it after they’d just snapped at each other. Lance pushed his glasses up onto his head and rubbed his eyes, sighing. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. Can we start over?” 

 

He couldn’t start off on such a bad foot with this guy if he was going to have to work with him, and who knew the next time Lance would have to put up with him again as well. Might as well clear the air now. Keith glanced at him, seeming to debate before sighing and dropping his defensive position, relaxing a little bit but still seeming wary. 

 

“Okay,” he agreed. 

 

Lance held his hand out and Keith shook it without hesitation. “Lance Espinosa, Allura’s wedding planner.” 

 

The corner of Keith’s mouth crooked upwards. “Keith Song. Nice to meet you.” 

 

“You too.” Lance placed his glasses back over his eyes and looked down at the sketches again, chewing at his lip. “Do you have estimates for these?” Without a word Keith flipped through his notepad, eyebrows drawn together in thought. 

 

“Yeah. I’ll write them underneath each. Do you know how many you need?” Keith slid the sketchbook back over to himself and began to scribble underneath the sketched arrangements. 

 

“Not yet. We’re still working it out.” Lance rocked back on his heels and glanced around the shop as he waited. 

 

“Okay. Just keep me updated on what you need.” Keith quickly scribbled onto his notepad and tore the page out, sliding it over to Lance. It was his number. 

 

“Yeah… okay.” Lance took it, even though he already had it. “Can you forward those sketches to myself, Allura, and Shiro, please?” He typed Keith’s number into his phone and then sent him his email, feeling terribly anxious as he did so. 

 

“Sure. Will do.” Keith glanced down at his phone when it chimed, and then shoved it into his pocket. Lance removed his glasses and took a deep breath. 

 

“Uh. I should get going.” He announced awkwardly. Keith nodded. “I’ll keep in touch.” 

 

“Right.” Keith gave him a thin smile. Lance grabbed his umbrella and shoved his binder back into his bag. “See you.” Keith was already disappearing into the back room, and Lance could hear his friend groan as the door ran into her. He rubbed at the back of his neck and made his exit.

 

Lance kept any interactions between himself and Keith minimal, out of spite more than anything else. He didn’t have anything against Keith, except maybe the fact that he was kind of hot and his voice was adorable. But that was beside the point. 

 

Keith was a temporary business partner, and he wasn’t trying to mix work with relationships in any capacity. He wasn’t trying to get into a relationship  _ period.  _ That was it. That was all. 

 

No matter what Hunk thought.  

 

Lance had known Hunk basically his whole entire life, so Hunk  _ knew  _ Lance’s issue with relationships. He knew that Lance’s dad had left them when he was ten years old, and that it had made his stay-at-home mom panic up a storm until Hunk’s parents offered to let them move into the spare bedroom of their house. Lance had slept on the right side of Hunk’s bed for two years until Lance’s mom got back on her feet - until Gloria and Valeria had started working in order to help pay rent. 

 

Hunk had been there when Lance’s mom’s new boyfriend moved into their apartment and ruined everything they’d worked so hard for with his liquor and gambling problems. When his mom, himself, and Valeria had to move back into Hunk’s house in order to get Gloria into the college she wanted to go to. 

 

Not to mention all of Gloria and Valeria’s awful past relationships. Not to mention his  _ own.  _

 

That was a whole other can of worms he didn’t want to think about, presently. 

 

Sitting in Hunk’s living room was pretty cathartic after all of these years. Hunk’s  _ own  _ living room, where the house was filled with earthy tones and there were herbs growing on the window sill and Shay’s sunflowers sat on the coffee table. Hunk’s home always felt like home to him. 

 

It was a huge perk that him and Shay could cook up a  _ damn storm _ . Lance was seriously blessed that he was able to consume it on a regular basis. The snowy weather outside was pretty unbearable but Shay’s curry lit a fire in the pit of his stomach that made his whole entire body warm down to the tips of his toes.

 

“You’re going to be late.” Even Shay’s scolding was soft, her dark hair swinging down her back as she shook her head. 

 

“I know, I’m hurrying,” Hunk sighed. 

 

Lance was in no rush. He was perfectly comfortable on the couch, with his curry in his lap and their dog Princess sitting on his feet and keeping them warm, tail wagging as Lance wiggled his toes. 

 

“If you take tenth street you should be able to make it there and load everything in in time.” Shay suggested. Hunk emerged from their bedroom, tie loose around his neck as he buttoned up the cuffs of his shirt with a grimace on his face, obviously struggling.

 

“Okay. I’ll go that way, then.” Shay began to tie his necktie for him, and Lance rested his head on the backrest of the couch as he watched them, feeling something weird in his chest. Longing? Jealousy, maybe? 

 

Lance could admit one thing; if he did want a relationship (he didn’t) he’d want one like theirs. But even their relationship was going to end eventually. Things just didn’t stay as good as they had it. 

 

“Okay. Come on, Lance. We need to get going.” Lance snapped out of his thoughts, wiggling his feet from under Princess and stepping around her when she followed him off of the couch. He rinsed his bowl in the sink and put it in the dishwasher, pretending not to notice Hunk and Shay’s blatant make-out session a few feet away from him. 

 

“Thanks for the curry, Shay. I can’t wait for you guys’ restaurant to finally open.” He turned to give them a cheeky smile. Hunk sighed heavily and Shay’s laugh tinkled like wind-chimes. 

 

“Hm. I still don’t know about a restaurant, Lance.” She was blushing though, as she usually did when Lance laid the flattery in on her. He’d known Shay for eight years and he still somehow managed to surprise her sometimes. 

 

“We’ll talk about it later. We can budget and everything!” It got a laugh out of her, at least. Hunk shoved his wallet into his pants pocket and motioned for Lance to follow after him. They put their coats on as Shay waved after them. 

 

The ride to the catering company Hunk worked at was relatively quiet, the radio playing quietly as Lance scrolled through his phone and Hunk drove. Once there, they switched Hunk’s car for the catering truck, and then they were off to the event. Lance wasn’t entirely sure why Hunk had asked  _ him  _ along. Apparently, the woman who was supposed to go with Hunk to the event bailed out, and Hunk could’ve asked any number of other people. Lance could never say no to Hunk, though. And besides, according to Hunk it wouldn’t really require Lance to know every in and out of what was happening, and he took Hunk’s word for it. 

 

The first thing Lance noticed was that the art exhibit was small - that would explain why they didn’t need a whole entire catering crew for this event. The good thing about already being detail oriented was that him and Hunk were pretty much on the same wavelength, and it took them no time at all to set up. 

 

Slowly but surely people began to filter in to the exhibit, and Lance put on his best people-person smile as he poured champagne into glasses for the people who came up to their little corner. Hunk was in charge of the  hors-d'oeuvres, and they made a pretty good team.

 

He could feel his good mood smothered, though, by a familiar mullet, and he turned to glare at Hunk, who was  _ blatantly  _ and  _ purposely  _ ignoring him. 

 

“Hey, Keith!” Hunk greeted, and Keith gave a soft smile back, accepting the handshake that Hunk offered to him. “How’s it going?” Keith grabbed a plate and sighed, shrugging his shoulders. 

 

“I don’t know. Alright, I guess? People seem interested enough.” He let Hunk fill his plate, and he belatedly noticed Lance. “Oh. Uh. Hi, Lance.” 

 

They hadn’t really talked much, except over the phone a few times in  _ strictly business  _ fashion. Lance tried to keep phone calls short, and sometimes avoided them all together and just texted so that he wouldn’t have to listen to Keith’s voice, because he had a  _ thing  _ for raspy voices. 

 

“Hi,” Lance breathed. 

 

Awkward silence descended between them. Hunk was quick to fix it. 

 

“Have you gotten a chance to see Keith’s artwork, Lance?” He asked. Lance shook his head, as a  _ no  _ and because he knew what Hunk was about to say next; “You can take a break and check it out if you want. It’s not like it’s particularly busy or anything.” 

 

And well, refusing would be downright rude, so he took his time to come out from behind the table. Keith was blushing, arms crossed as if he didn’t really want this to happen either, but Hunk was grinning so much that neither of them protested. 

 

There were two sections of the exhibit; one side was Keith’s, and the other was someone’s works of whom Lance didn’t recognize. 

 

Keith’s art was… Lance didn’t know how to put it. Not that Lance knew anything about art in the first place, but  _ impressed  _ wasn’t the only word he would use either. Sure, his use of color blew Lance away, and his understanding of structure and anatomy was striking. 

 

More than that, it was making Lance feel things. 

 

Lance had still been staring at the first piece himself and Keith had come across when Keith had been pulled away by some visitors of the exhibit to talk about his artwork. Lance was kind of glad about it, or else he would start asking questions and getting to know Keith and-... 

 

Lance shook his head. He was getting repetitive, even to himself. 

 

He found himself stuck on one painting in particular, eyebrows pulling together and a frown on his face as he stared at it. It was a house -  _ house _ was a loose stretch - out in the middle of nowhere, desert stretching far beyond the horizon and mountains in the distance. The orange of of the sky bled into pink and purple hues, and then into dark blue. 

 

Lance felt lonely while staring at it. 

 

“You okay there?” Keith stepped up next to him, arms still crossed over his chest. Lance wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. 

 

“Yeah…” He wanted to root into Keith’s brain, but didn’t have the courage to get too deep into it. “Where’s this?” He pointed at the painting. Keith shrugged, leaning on his hip. 

 

“Nowhere? Uh, I don’t know. I started to paint this shack - I think it’s because I was watching a lot of  _ The Walking Dead _ , honestly.” Lance snorted, but Keith didn’t seem to take offense to it. He smiled. “Yeah, I know. But… I drew the shack, and it felt like it needed more so I sat on it for a while and well… yeah.” 

 

“Why the desert, then?” Was Lance’s next question. Keith glanced down at his dress shoes, shuffling. Lance was about to take it back, say that Keith didn’t need to answer. 

 

“It’s just… empty. Too much to deal with for most people.” 

 

Lance pondered it. “The desert’s either too hot or too cold.” 

 

Keith simply nodded. “And sandy.” 

 

“Yeah. No one really likes sand.” Lance turned to look at Keith’s pensive expression. 

 

“That’s true.”

 

Silence descended upon them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. 

 

“Uh-”

 

“Hi, Mr. Song.” One of the guests came up to them then, offering his hand out to Keith. “May I borrow you for a moment?” He looked at Lance. Lance put his hands up. 

 

“Oh, no go ahead. I should get back to work.” He quickly excused himself, not looking back at Keith’s reaction as he hightailed it back to the catering table. Hunk was sitting down and scrolling through his phone since everyone had gone off to enjoy the exhibit.

 

The rest of the event went by slowly, but  _ finally  _ it was time to pack everything up and leave. Lance was relieved - ready to go back to Hunk’s for some more of Shay’s cooking and sit in front of the fireplace with Princess before going home. 

 

“I have so much to do before we go back.” Hunk sighed, overdramatically and in the kind of way that made Lance narrow his eyes. 

 

“Okay…” He trailed off, waiting for Hunk to continue. 

 

“Would you mind if Keith gave you a ride home?” 

 

The question came so out of left field that Lance just floundered, mouth opening and closing in confusion. “ _ Yes. _ ” Lance helped Hunk haul the table into the back of the catering van, frowning. 

 

“I’m serious, though. It might take me hours.” Hunk lead the way back into the art exhibit with Lance hot on his heels. 

 

“I don’t mind helping you. I just-” 

 

“You already helped me out a lot today.” Hunk smiled at him, stopping in his tracks. Lance looked up at him, still frowning. “Seriously.” 

 

Lance glanced over to where Keith was speaking with a woman in too-high heels and blonde hair down to her shoulders. Hunk was making his way over to him and Lance didn’t even know what to say, feeling like a kid getting passed between teams because they didn’t want him.

 

He stayed put, next to a painting of Keith’s with his arms crossed and pouting like a petulant child as Hunk relayed his information to Keith, who shrugged but seemingly agreed. Hunk tossed Lance the keys to the van. 

 

“Go get your coat. I can break down the rest.” Hunk smiled at him, and Lance said nothing in return, turning on his heel to get his coat and scarf, feeling dejected. When he returns it’s to Keith shaking hands with the blonde woman, accepting a business card from her. Lance skulks up with his hands deep in his pockets, trying not to look disgruntled. It isn’t working, if the eyebrow Keith raises at him says anything. 

 

“What’s up with you?” 

 

Lance shakes his head. “Let’s just go.” He probably shouldn’t be grumbling at the person who’s supposed to give him a ride home. 

 

“I’m kind of hungry. Do you mind if we stop to eat first? There’s this diner not that far that’s pretty good.” 

 

Lance had been hoping to get some of Shay’s cooking when he got back to Hunk’s, but since that’s out of the question; “That sounds fine.” 

 

Lance took one more glance around the exhibit, as Keith wandered over to the light switch and turned all of the lights off. The streetlamps outside cast everything in warm orange, and Lance tried not to think about it too much as Keith led the way outside and locked the doors behind them, tugging them just to double check. 

 

“The diner is that way.” He cocked his head in the direction, and Lance followed after him, unsure of what to say. “How’s planning Shiro and Allura’s wedding?” It appeared that Keith was about small talk, even if it sounded forced. 

 

“Uh, good. Slow going, but we still have a while before everything comes together, so. I’m not too worried about it.” Lance scuffed the ground with the heel of his boot, tripping over himself and bumping into Keith for a split moment. He flushed, but nothing came of it. 

 

“The invitations were really nice.” 

 

It took a moment, but then Lance remembered that the only reason he’d reached out to Keith in the first place was upon Shiro’s request; he guessed they were actual friends, then. 

 

“How did you meet Shiro?” Lance shuffled as Keith held open the door to the diner for him, and he hurried in away from the cold.

 

“Uhm… do you remember those military tests they made us take in high school in case we wanted to enlist, or whatever?” Keith wandered over to a booth, not even waiting for the hostess, and plopped down into a seat. Lance followed, glancing around curiously at the busy diner and hesitantly sitting down across from him.

 

“Yeah… ASVAB?” He toyed with his cell phone out of sudden nervousness, fidgeting uselessly.

 

“Yeah, that. Well, I didn’t care about the test, until I graduated and realized I had no idea what to do with my life.” He snorted, glancing at the waitress when she came over with two menus. 

 

“Hey, Keith. It’s been a while,” she greeted, shoving her hands into the pockets of her apron. Lance buried his face into his menu, recognizing her almost immediately. 

 

“Hey, Nyma.” Keith offered no other conversation. 

 

“Can I get you both started with…” Nyma trailed off, and Lance could feel her looking at him. Still, he kept his face hidden in his menu, attempting to ignore her, or make it  _ obvious  _ that he was trying to ignore her so that he wouldn’t have to have a conversation with her. The last time he’d seen her was during a sexcapade where she’d  _ lost the key  _ to her handcuffs and had left him cuffed to her bed when she went to work. And he’d had  _ class,  _ so he’d had to call his sister to get him out of them. 

 

He was  _ still  _ scarred from the whole ordeal. 

 

“I’ll just have coffee. No cream. Lance?” Keith looked at him curiously. 

 

“Just water, please,” Lance muttered. Nyma left without another word. Keith seemed oblivious to the tension, continuing his story as if uninterrupted. 

 

“So I went to the recruiting office and Shiro really helped me out? We got close that way, which probably sounds weird.” Keith paused again as Nyma set their drinks down on the table, but then she walked away without asking if they wanted any food. Lance decided that was fine. 

 

“So you joined the military?” Keith nodded in response. Lance could kind of see that; Keith was considerably built, his hair was growing out a little awkwardly, he looked tired in the kind of way only people that have  _ seen shit  _ managed to look tired. 

 

“Army. Only six years, though. It’s…” He deliberated on elaborating, but when he appeared to get stuck in his thoughts Lance decided to give him an out. 

 

“Well, thank you for your service. That’s what people say, right?” Lance smiled, slouching and relaxing more in his seat as Keith flushed and waved him off. 

 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly. 

 

“What did you do in the army?” Lance  _ did  _ want to know that. What made Keith want to become a florist, of all things? Why was that the path he’d chosen for himself coming out of the military? 

 

“I was a field nurse.” The answer came terse. Lance hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of a way to change the subject. Thankfully, it came in the form of a different waiter coming over to take their order. Lance quickly glanced down at the menu, eyebrows pulling together as he quickly scanned over everything because he realized that he had  _ no idea  _ what to get here. 

 

“Do you want the usual, Keith?” The waiter asked. Keith nodded, a small smile on his lips. “And how about you?” The waiter turned to Lance. He picked the first thing his eyes fall on on the menu. 

 

“Just fish and chips, please.” He handed the menu to the waiter, waiting for Keith to do the same, and then they were left in silence. “Do you have any pictures from the army?” He asked curiously. Keith’s eyebrows pulled together. 

 

“I think so… Hold on.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket and began to scroll through it. Lance stared at him, tilting his head to the side as his eyes roamed over Keith’s face, taking him in and well…  _ okay  _ so Keith was cute, with his fluttery eyelashes and almost-perfect cupid’s bow and grey eyes that were looking  _ right at him.  _ Lance sat back in his seat, flush on his face as Keith slid his phone over. “You can just scroll through them.” 

 

Lance crossed his legs and began to go through the photos, small smile tugging at his face as he started at the beginning of the album. Keith in a PT shirt alone, Keith in uniform ( _ damn  _ he looked good in uniform), at a banquet, during training. 

 

“Here’s the fish and chips…” Lance hadn’t even noticed the waiter approach, but he felt incredibly caught off guard the second he heard his voice, flushing and handing Keith his phone back as his plate was set in front of him. “And your garbage plate, Keith. Let me know if you need anything.” He refilled Keith’s coffee without any prompting, and then they were left alone again. 

 

Lance couldn’t stop staring at the  _ abomination  _ on Keith’s plate. “What the  _ actual hell  _ is that?” He laughed as Keith immediately dug in, shoving the mess into his mouth without any regard. Lance couldn’t ever eat whatever it was on Keith’s plate, even if it were delicious. He was very much a visual eater, and if something didn’t look good to him he felt repulsed. 

 

“A garbage plate?” Keith blinked at him owlishly, and Lance gave him a sheepish smile as he dipped his fries in ketchup. 

 

“Yeah, but  _ what  _ is it?” 

 

Without explaining Keith shoveled the food onto his fork and held it out to Lance. This was  _ not  _ a business-relationship type of thing to do, but Keith hadn’t seemed entirely privy to social cues the short while Lance had known him. Before he could think about it too much Lance reached for the fork. Keith still didn’t let go even when the food was already in Lance’s mouth and…  _ okay  _ it was pretty good but still looked  _ absolutely  _ disgusting, so he was reluctant to voice any praise. 

 

“Good?” Keith’s smile was disarming.  _ God,  _ Lance hated him. 

 

“... Yeah,” he admitted begrudgingly. Keith raised his eyebrows at him playfully and then continued to dig into his food. 

 

Lance quickly learned that Keith was  _ funny  _ as all hell. He wasn’t the same kind of funny as Hunk, who told  _ dad jokes  _ and bad puns. Keith’s humor was dry, hardly meant to be funny, which just made it even  _ more  _ funny because every time Lance would giggle Keith would giggle back a “what?”. 

 

When the check came Keith paid for his meal, insisting that since he’d dragged Lance to dinner it was only fair, and Lance wasn’t one to deny free food. The conversation was good, anyways. 

 

Truth be told, Lance lost track of time. After they’d left the diner Keith had gone nextdoor to get even  _ more  _ coffee, as if he needed it when it was so late at night, and because Lance was a good samaritan he paid for Keith’s drink, shoving his card at the cashier before Keith could even grab his wallet. Keith flushed, scratching at the back of his neck as he muttered a thank you. Lance tried not to stare at him for too long. 

 

“Where was I?” Lance asked as he grabbed his pumpkin spiced latte, cradling it in his hands as he followed Keith out of the coffee shop. 

 

“Your date had just ditched you to dance with someone else,” Keith supplied easily. Lance hummed, propelling himself back to the night of his senior prom. 

 

“So, she ditched me almost right after we finished taking pictures, and every time I tried to approach her after that she kept finding ways to avoid me. One of her friends was actively cockblocking me too, which was  _ weird.  _ And I ended up spending most of the night with Hunk and Shay which I felt kind of bad about, but you know Hunk.” Lance shrugged, his shoulder bumping into Keith’s because of the proximity. 

 

“What happened with your girlfriend?” Keith cradled his coffee in both of his hands to keep them warm. 

 

“Eh, she hooked up with this other guy and got pregnant, I think.” Lance narrowed his eyes in thought. Keith choked on his coffee. “But yeah. We broke up after that, obviously. She used me for prom pictures and then that was the end of that.” He looked down at his watch, eyebrows going up. “Oh my god, is it really one a.m.?” 

 

Had himself and Keith really been talking for that long? He didn’t even mind, he was just… surprised. He was surprised that he was having so much fun, and that he hadn’t thought about work  _ once  _ while they’d been hanging out. They’d left the art exhibit three hours ago and Lance had been so engrossed he hadn’t checked the time once until then. 

 

Keith frowned and pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the time. “Oh, shit. Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was.” He downed the rest of his coffee - Lance wondered  _ how  _ the hell he wasn’t burning his tongue - and then motioned for Lance to follow him. Lance attempted to down the rest of his as well, shoving his hands into his pockets afterwards and pausing when Keith stopped in front of a motorcycle. 

 

“I only have one helmet, sorry.” Keith held the helmet out to him and Lance hesitated in taking it. His mother would  _ kill him  _ if he rode a motorcycle, even though he’d always been curious when he was younger and almost  _ desperate  _ as he watched motorcycles pass him in traffic on the freeway. “Uh-...”

 

“It’s fine.” Lance accepted the helmet, going against every grain in his body that was telling him  _ no.  _ He was turning 25 years old next year, he couldn’t listen to his mom  _ all  _ the time. He placed the helmet on his head, fiddling with the straps. “I can just hear my mom in the back of my head yelling at me.” Without any prompting he perfectly imitated his mom’s rapid Spanish, abandoning his attempt at the helmet clasp to poke Keith in the chest as he rambled. Keith let out a noise akin to muffled giggles, shaking his head as he reached out and buckled the helmet for Lance. 

 

“Well, I won’t tell your mom if you won’t,” Keith laughed. Lance couldn’t help but flush. 

 

“Deal.” 

 

Keith settled onto the motorcycle, waiting for Lance to climb on behind him. 

 

“This is literally my first time riding a motorcycle,” Lance admitted. Keith smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 

 

“Just lean with me and hold on tight. Where do you live?” Lance could feel butterflies arise in his stomach as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s middle. 

 

“43rd and Lassen? By  _ Mimi’s Cafe. _ ” 

 

Keith nodded and flipped the visor on Lance’s helmet down, kicking the bike into gear. Lance held on tight, watching the blurry street lights go by and listening to the wind howl past him. Was Keith going to be okay without a helmet? He should be okay, right? It was pretty cold outside. 

 

Lance clung tighter. 

 

The ride back felt too fast, and soon enough they were pulling up outside of Lance’s apartment complex. Lance climbed off and took off the helmet, shuffling his feet as Keith climbed off as well. “I’ll walk you up.” He smiled. 

 

Lance nodded his head and lead the way up to the apartment he shared with his sister. 

 

“How long have you lived here?” Keith asked. Lance hummed in thought as he pressed the elevator button. 

 

“Uhhh two years or so? My sister used to live here with her ex-husband and his brother but uh… yeah.” Lance shoved his hands into his pockets, and Keith gave a quiet hum. 

 

“It must be nice to live with your sister, though?” He guessed. Lance agreed with that sometimes, but not completely. Living with her was hard, even if she did pay most of the rent. Even if he had lived with her for eighteen years or so beforehand. 

 

“I guess so. I’m not obligated to be nice,” Lance laughed. Keith let out a small laugh too, following Lance into the elevator. The ride up was quiet, and suddenly they were standing in front of Lance’s door and…  _ wow,  _ okay. This felt a lot like a date. “Uh, thanks for the ride back.” 

 

“Yeah. No problem.” Keith fidgeted, and Lance wondered if he was making things up or if Keith was looking at him  _ some type of way.  _

 

“I have to go.” Lance rushed it out in one breath, suddenly feeling panicked because  _ oh god this was a date.  _ He’d just gone out on a date, and he was pretty sure Hunk had planned the night out that way because he’d been trying to set Lance up with Keith for  _ a while now.  _ Was Keith in on it? He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

 

“Uh… okay. Are you alright?” Keith’s eyebrows pulled together in concern as Lance fumbled with his keys, composure quickly falling apart. 

 

“I have to go,” is all Lance said as he rushed into the apartment and slammed the door in Keith’s face. 

 

Keith was quiet for another moment on the other side of the door; confused or offended, Lance didn’t know. “Have a good night?” Keith muttered, and then Lance could hear his footsteps retreating to the elevator. 

 

Some part of him - the stupid part - wished Keith had persisted, but the rational part of him knew that desire came from the depths of him he really didn’t like to think about. Even avoiding the thought was making his hands sweaty. Almost immediately Lance pulled up the text conversation that was at the top of his archives, going to type, but he didn’t know what to say to him. Angrily, he let his fingers type whatever and all that came out was an enthusiastic keyboard smash that had the word “tit” in the middle and ruined the mood of the entire thing. 

 

Still angry, he stormed to his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, rushing over to his bed and falling onto the made duvet, face buried into the pillow. 

 

_ You’re fine. Everything’s fine. There isn’t even anything to cry about. You’re fine.  _

 

He tried to convince himself, but he was still hyperventilating into the pillow. Eventually, he let himself cry angry tears because he hoped letting it all out meant that he would feel better about it later. That he would forgive Hunk for this by the morning and he could laugh it off. He’d see Keith a few times before the wedding and then afterwards he’d never have to deal with him again. Him and his stupidly soft hands and his warm smile and his dumb hair. 

 

His throat was raw and his eyes were puffy when he woke up the next morning, and he was still angry. He knew he would have to confront Hunk about setting him up later, but he felt like his hurt feelings outweighed the actual gravity of the situation, so he avoided every text and call from Hunk he got that day. 

 

It wasn’t until three days later that he actually called Hunk back, when he was too tired to be angry anymore and he missed the sound of Hunk’s voice. 

 

“Hey…” It was obvious from his tone that Hunk knew he’d messed up. The only time Lance didn’t call him back within twenty-four hours was when Lance was angry at him. 

 

“Hi.” Lance’s reply was short. He floundered for a moment, a little lost on how to start the impending conversation. He just wanted to get it over with so he could stop feeling hurt and move on. “I didn’t appreciate you setting me up with Keith.” 

 

“I knew you wouldn’t.” 

 

“Then why did you?” 

 

Hunk sighed, and Lance could picture his expression after knowing him for so long. Large hands scrubbing down Hunk’s face, eyebrows pulled together and forehead creased in anxiety. He was probably trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say without Lance shutting the entire thing down or hanging up.

 

“I know you had good intentions but doing it without running it by me wasn’t cool. At all.” He decided to continue talking while Hunk was thinking. “It’s not like I have time for a relationship anyways. Between work and school and Val. It’s just too much.” 

 

“You’re the only person I know that actively keeps up with almost  _ every  _ popular Netflix show,” Hunk suddenly interrupted. Lance physically paused mid-breath. “So time isn’t the issue.” Lance had nothing to say to that. “... Have you ever thought about going back to your therapist?” 

 

That wasn’t the question Lance was expecting. It felt like a rug had been swept out from under his feet and he was free-falling into a dark pit.

 

“I-... what? It’s been two years, Hunk.” 

 

“Yeah. And you’re still not even  _ trying  _ to see anybody.” 

 

“That’s not true. I went out with Linda Bardesi.” 

 

“Linda Bardesi was a lesbian and you knew it the second Val set you up with her.” 

 

“She could’ve been bi!”

 

“She wasn’t bi.” 

 

Linda Bardesi  _ hadn’t  _ been bi. She’d very blatantly told Lance that she was an ace lesbian and that Valeria had gotten the wrong idea from their interactions (which sounded a lot like his sister). 

 

Lance hadn’t really been happy about going on that date either, no matter how stupid it had ended up being. 

 

“Keith’s a good guy.” Hunk, apparently, wasn’t going to drop the conversation to talk in-depth about Linda Bardesi. “The quiet type, but I think that compliments you. And an artist!” 

 

“I don’t see how him being an artist has anything to do with anything,” Lance deadpanned. 

 

“Every single time you rewatch  _ Titanic  _ you’re swooning over Jack’s art and how romantic he is.” Lance quietly begged Hunk not to, but his best friend was already on a roll; “ _ I need a Jack to paint me like one of his French girls. I could die happy then. _ ” His impression of Lance was perfect and Lance hated it. He didn’t even have anything to say. “... I know everything that happened with Leslie really-”

 

“I  _ don’t  _ want to talk about him-”

 

“- fucked everything up. Trust me, I  _ get it.  _ Forget just Keith entirely for a moment; not  _ everyone you meet  _ is going to end up like Leslie.” Hunk might be right, but that didn’t mean that made Lance feel any less paranoid. 

 

“One in three is a big statistic, Hunk…” He trailed off, curling up with his knees to his chest. 

 

“I know,” Hunk muttered. 

 

“I’m part of that statistic, Hunk…” 

 

Hunk grunted. That’s what he did when he didn’t want to admit to something; too kind to admit it outright but not good enough of a liar to tell you differently. 

 

“... Keith was concerned about you when you slammed the door in his face. He texted me.” Lance didn’t want to think about Keith anymore either. He wanted what happened to never have happened. Keith had felt comfortable, and like someone that Lance could trust, and Lance  _ hated it.  _ He didn’t like to put his walls down like that. “I’m sorry I sprung that on you. I shouldn’t have done it. It’s just… It’s hard to watch you sometimes, when I know what you used to be like. I just want you to be able to be happy with someone.” 

 

Lance thought about how much Hunk  _ hadn’t  _ changed. How his parents kind-heartedness leaked out of his bones and his smile went all the way to his eyes. How Hunk always made enough food for Lance to take home for himself and Valeria. How the way Hunk looked at Shay was very similar to when they’d watched the sunrise at the Grand Canyon - like he was watching a miracle unfold before his eyes. How he still somehow managed to be selfish even  _ in  _ all of that kindness, and how his anxiety sometimes outweighed all of that. 

 

Lance remembered in elementary school he used to love Valentine’s Day. He’d loved the color red, and he loved the idea of love, and the idea of holding  _ Isabella Fuentes’  _ hand outside during recess. How at ten years old Lance’s dad left them in the dust, and he watched his mom cry almost every holiday after out of hurt and anger. How four years later his mom’s new boyfriend ruined everything they’d worked so hard for. So much yelling, and booze, and Lance cranking the music in his headphones all the way up so he wouldn’t have to hear it all. How Valentine’s Day had just became a reminder that love  _ sucked  _ and just made you vulnerable and weak. 

 

But then he would go over to Hunk’s on particularly bad nights and see Hunk’s mom’s super in love, and giggling over Family Feud episodes, and cooking up a mad storm in the kitchen. 

 

Lance had always been jealous of them. He knew kids tended to repeat the behaviors their parents had and he wondered if that’s what he was destined for; if Hunk got the sweet happy ending his mother’s had and if Lance was just going to deal with heartbreak for the rest of his life, like his mom.

 

“Maybe I’ll go see someone again.” Lance wasn’t sure if he was saying it to appease Hunk or if he was actually going to do it. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t afford it now, at least once a month or something. He could pull that off. Talk about all of the issues he’d talked about before in therapy. All the issues he’d cried about.

 

“Okay… I really am sorry, dude.” 

 

“It’s…” It wasn’t okay, so he didn’t want to say that. “I forgive you. Let’s just forget about it.” 

 

They did forget about it, and two days afterward Lance called up his old therapist to make an appointment for later that month. He felt relieved, somehow, knowing he was attempting to confront his issues, even if he technically hadn’t done anything yet. 

 

Standing outside of  _ Panda Lily’s _ three weeks after his not-date date with Keith felt weird, but Lance couldn’t avoid him for  _ forever.  _ He needed to communicate with him for Shiro and Allura’s wedding, so he needed to face this issue like an adult, apologize, and mend things so they can be on good working terms. 

 

Gathering up his courage, he stepped into the florist shop, the bell tinkling above the door as he entered. This time, there was no one inside looking around. 

 

There was never anyone on this side of town at this time of year. With Christmas right around the corner everyone was frequently on the side of town with the outlets and malls, so it only made sense that Keith’s shop was a little bit barren of people. “Be right with you!” Keith’s voice travelled from the back, and Lance didn’t reply, going over to a display of wreaths and looking at them curiously. It took a while - Lance wondered how busy Keith must be - but then finally Keith was emerging from the swinging door with his index finger in his mouth, grimacing down at it in disgruntlement until he realized just who was in his shop. Lance stopped breathing. He’s pretty sure Keith wasn’t breathing either. 

 

“Hi,” Keith finally breathed after a moment. 

 

“Hey.” Lance stepped away from the display and walked up to the counter. Keith paralleled him on the other side, palms planted on the counter as if steadying himself. 

 

“What can I do for you today?” Keith squatted to grab something from under the counter - a bandaid. Lance searched for words in his brain as Keith placed the plaster over his bleeding index finger. 

 

“Nothing. I don’t have anything for you to do today. I just, uh-...” Lance’s palms felt sweaty, and he wiped them on his jeans self consciously as he avoided looking directly at Keith. “I wanted to apologize to you.” 

 

He could feel Keith’s eyes on him. “Okay…?” 

 

Lance guessed that was his cue to apologize. What does he even  _ say _ ? “I’m sorry that I slammed the door in your face last time we saw each other.” When he got the courage to look up at Keith he was shaking his head, eyebrows pulled together in concern. 

 

“No, it’s okay. I was just a little worried about you, is all. I’m glad you’re okay.” 

 

The air was awkward and tense. Lance was waiting for Keith to ask for an explanation - if not out right then to ask and say he doesn’t have to tell Keith out of formalities and politeness. But nothing came. Just silence. Does that mean he’s forgiven, then? He feels like he should provide an explanation. 

 

“Uhm… I just… hadn’t realized it was a date until it was over so I kind of…” Lance looked away again, down at his shoes. He was mad that he couldn’t seem to keep eye contact, or finish a sentence. Keith’s eyebrows went up in shock, and then he seemed to glance back into his head as if remembering something. 

 

“Oh…  _ Oh _ .” He scratched at the back of his dumb mullet. “I kind of forgot Hunk was trying to set us up… It wasn’t really a date to me either. I’m sorry that must have been weird.” He was so casual about it that Lance almost wanted to punch him. Lance had been freaking out about it this  _ whole entire time  _ and yet Keith hadn’t even thought about it twice? What kind of person was he exactly? That just made him feel even worse for shutting the door in Keith’s face. Keith had just been trying to be nice and Lance had gone and flipped a shit. 

 

_ Nice.  _

 

“It’s… fine.” Lance decided that it  _ was  _ fine. It had just been miscommunication. It had just been Hunk trying to meddle, as usual. Everything was fine and back to normal. 

 

Except it wasn’t. 

 

“Uh, but you know-...” Keith choked on his own words, clearing his throat as his voice cracked. “If-... if you wanted to go out on an actual date, I uhm…” With Lance staring at him so hard he looked away and lost his nerve. “Never mind.” 

 

Suddenly, Lance felt panicked and hurt that Keith might be taking it back. “No, finish asking me,” he prompted. 

 

“I can’t ask when you’re staring at me like that!” Keith’s face was gradually becoming more flushed. He hid his face in his hands. 

 

“When I’m looking at you like what?” Lance groaned in frustration.

 

“Like you’re going to say no!” 

 

_ Would  _ Lance say no? The whole reason that he’d freaked out on Keith 3 weeks ago was because he was afraid to date anyone. But… he’d sort of already had an unofficial date with Keith already. He  _ sort of  _ knew him, just a little bit. Truth was, he was tired of being afraid. He didn’t know if saying  _ yes  _ was the correct way to face his fears; he was in  _ therapy  _ because of his issues with relationships, for Christ’s sake. 

 

“... I’m not going to say no. Just finish asking me. Please.” Lance took a deep breath, bracing himself for it. Keith paused, waiting to see if Lance was being serious. When it was apparent he was, he took a deep breath of his own. 

 

“Would you like to go out some time?” He muttered it, unable to keep eye contact again. 

 

“Maybe.” 

 

“... Maybe…” 

 

“I can’t say yes until I know when.” Lance shuffled in his boots. Keith let out an exasperated sigh, a smile tugging on his lips as he dug under the counter to pull out a planner. He glanced down at it thoughtfully, chewing at his lip. Lance tried not to stare too hard this time. 

 

“Next weekend? I’m not free from any projects until then.” Keith tapped his fingers anxiously. Lance tugged his phone from his back pocket and stared down at his schedule. He was free, but he was pretending to look hard just so that he had time to think about actually doing this; actually committing to this date with someone that Hunk thought was perfect for him. He forced another deep breath out of himself. 

 

“Okay. I can do that,” he agreed. The tension in Keith’s shoulders released all in one huge swoop. 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Keith’s smile was incredibly disarming, and Lance could feel butterflies beat their wings in his stomach. He almost hated it - it made him feel too vulnerable. “Okay. I’ll text you details later.” 

 

“Okay.” 


	2. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith…” He whispered, leaning over the head of the couch to look down at Keith, who was looking up at Lance from his phone. 
> 
> “You okay?” Keith asked him, eyebrows pulling together. Lance toyed with the fluff on the couch as he tried to force the words from his brain to his mouth. 
> 
> “Do you want to sleep with me?” As soon as it was out he backtracked, whispering getting louder; “I mean- not like sex or anything, just like literally sleep. Not that I’m opposed to sex either because you’re hot but I just mean-. You know what I mean.” God he was just embarrassing himself now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi there! why can't i write what takes priority instead of just doing what i want? i don't know, either! 
> 
> i hope you like my means of procrastination.
> 
> oh! tags have been updated!

“So, this is our last meeting until after New Years,” Lance looked down at his planner, tapping his bottom lip with his pen as he conversed with Allura’s uncle Coran, who was looking just a little bit weepy from their day at the wedding dress shop. Every single dress she had tried on had made him cry, but Allura was pretty picky and always found some reason to put the dress back. Lance felt like he kept having to remind her that the dress could be tailored, but she kept insisting that tailoring wasn’t the issue. _It fits odd right here, I don’t like how much it poofs out here, maybe something more sparkly, maybe something less sparkly, maybe something more lacy._

 

And that’s how the last two hours had gone. Lance knew that they would probably have to make another appointment elsewhere, because at the rate they were going Allura probably _wasn’t_ going to find a dress that she liked where they were. But he would worry about that when the time came. That’s why he was looking into his planner, anyways...

 

“Oh! That one’s beautiful!” Coran was already getting teary-eyed as Allura emerged in the dress. Lance could already tell by the look on her face that she didn’t like it very much, but decided to join in on the compliments anyways.

 

“I agree. You look great,” he smiled.

 

Allura pursed her lips as she stepped onto the pedestal, observing herself in the mirror with a critical eye. “... I’m not quite sure about this one.” She twirled, grimacing when it didn’t fan out with her spin. It _was_ a tight dress after all, but it had the sparkles and the mesh that she had wanted. Lance was glad he was used to this - he remembered his first time accompanying a client to a dress try-on session where he almost burst a blood vessel.

 

“You can keep trying stuff on if you like,” he offered. Allura sighed, putting her face in her hands and scrubbing at her eyes. Coran’s eyebrows pulled together in concern and he was quick to go to her, rubbing her back and asking her what was wrong. Lance decidedly tuned out the conversation - it probably wasn’t for him to hear.

 

“Lance, can I ask you a question?”

 

Okay, maybe it _was_ for him to hear. “Of course.”

 

“What do you think of Matthew?”

 

Lance was unsure of how to answer the question. First of all, he tended to avoid Matthew to the best of his ability. Second of all, whenever Matthew was around Lance could feel the atmosphere shift - not enough to perturb him but enough that he was able to notice. What exactly did Lance think of him? Well, Lance thought that Matt had unresolved issues with _one of them._ He had his bets on the fact that it was Shiro.

 

“He seems alright. Why?” Lance wasn’t about to voice the thought. If that wasn’t what Allura was thinking then he certainly didn’t want to plant the seed into her head. He didn’t even know if he was right and weddings came with enough drama without him spreading unwarranted gossip.

 

“I just get a funny feeling that he doesn’t like me that much.” Allura turned to look at him, digging her thumbs between her skin and the fabric of the dress under her arms and grimacing slightly.

 

“I’m sure he likes you plenty. It might just be wedding anxiety. You know, the whole ‘my best friend will no longer be readily available to me because he’ll have made a lifelong commitment to someone else’ thing.” He pulled it out of his ass but it _was_ plausible. Lance went through that exact situation when Hunk had gotten married to Shay. Thing was, though, Hunk was very good at time management and always set out at least a few hours a week to spend with Lance.

 

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should speak with him. Set up a day to get lunch.” She took the hand Coran offered her and stepped down from the podium.

 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Coran was supportive of every decision Allura had made thus far and he seemed to be keeping the streak going.

 

“Thank you for the insight. I think I’m done trying on dresses for the day.”

 

Lance was quick to hurry home, bulldozing through the living room like a bull in a china shop. Valeria was on the couch, eating a pint of ice cream and looking disheveled in her underwear. She glanced back at him as he threw all of his things down and kicked his shoes off of his feet, practically running (or perhaps slipping and sliding) to the bathroom.

 

“What are you up to?” Valeria asked over the sound of Bella Swan and Jacob Black having an argument on the TV screen.

 

“Going out. It’s nice out today.” He turned the shower on, so anything his sister said to him after that he didn’t catch. Emerging dressed and ready to go proved to be an Event. Valeria narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the vampires having a brawl on TV to look him up and down.

 

“Say hi to Hunk for me…” It was obviously a statement to dig into his business, but Lance didn’t feel like indulging her. He was far too nervous for any of that.

 

“Yeah, sure.” He struggled to get into his boots, eyebrows furrowed as he forced himself to keep breathing. Valeria stared at him unabashedly for a little while longer before turning back to her movie, figuring she could bother him later if she were really curious enough.

 

Suddenly the sound of the movie felt like too much, and Lance scrambled for his jacket and keys, rushing out of the apartment. He locked the door behind him and tried to take in the fresh air, shoving his hands into his pockets and fast-walking to the elevator. He pushed the down button, bouncing on his feet and flexing his fingers as he attempted to talk himself down. As the elevator door opened he stepped in just as someone was trying to step out.

 

He clashed right into Keith. Lance could almost feel himself jump out of his skin.

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Lance felt small as Keith steadied him by the arms.

 

“I- Yeah…” Lance gripped Keith’s forearms, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

 

“You know we don’t have to do this, right?” Keith’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. Lance shook his head, releasing Keith to turn and press the elevator button for the first floor.

 

“I want to,” he insisted. Keith chewed at his lip, crossing his arms over his chest in doubt. Lance steeled himself, shoving his hands into his pockets and forcing a smile onto his face. “Really, I do. It’s just been a while.” He looked down at his shoes. He could feel the tension release from Keith.

 

“Uh, yeah. I’ve only ever been out on one proper date. You don’t have to worry about being rusty.” The elevator door chimed open.

 

“One? But you’re gorgeous; do I have to worry about your personality?” Lance narrowed his eyes at him, satisfaction swelling in his stomach as Keith flushed.

 

“Considering when we first met? Maybe.” Keith pushed a hand through his hair. Lance snorted, looking away in embarrassment. “It’s okay. We made up, didn’t we?”

 

The motorcycle was parked in front of the building. Keith handed Lance the helmet, putting on his goggles and climbing on as Lance fumbled. Keith reached out to him and Lance let him buckle it, feeling warm. “Mind the basket, okay?”

 

Lance glanced down and narrowly avoided kneeing the basket secured to the bike. “Hm. Don’t tell me you brought me a basket of kittens.” Keith hummed.

 

“Maybe for the second date,” he laughed, kicking the bike into gear.

 

What Lance didn’t expect was to pull up to the park. It wasn’t like it was Summer, or even early Spring. Still, it was 60 degrees outside and his layers were warm enough. He just didn’t expect to be sitting at the park, watching kids running around with their backpacks abandoned in the grass and moms attempting to ignore their children while gossiping. It made Lance miss his mom, and Gloria, and Valeria before she got all messed up.

 

“Not a typical movie date person?” Lance asked. Keith hummed thoughtfully as he removed food from the picnic basket, handing a sandwich with Lance’s name on it over. “Is this Hunk’s handwriting?” Lance stared at the wrapper.

 

“Uh, yeah. I asked him to help me. He insisted his cooking was your favorite and I believed him, so.” Well, Hunk was absolutely right so Lance supposed Keith hit the nail on the head there. “Movies are okay. I’d rather be able to make conversation.” Keith continued.

 

Lance had been on more than a few movie dates where there was little to no talking and a _lot_ of making out (and ruining his jeans from kneeling on the sticky floor). “Are you _opposed_ to movie dates?” Lance asked, not because he was thinking about getting on his knees for Keith or anything (although he _was_ looking good in his jean jacket).

 

“Not really. I guess it depends on the movie, though.” Keith began to tear into his sandwich and Lance followed his example, giving a quiet thank you when Keith handed him salt & vinegar chips.

 

“Are you picky about movies, then?” Lance popped the bag of chips open.

 

“I’ll watch anything. There’s just not much I’ll go out of my way to see.” Keith talking with his mouth full probably should’ve been gross, but it wasn’t. “I’d rather wait until it’s out on Redbox or Netflix or whatever than spend all that money going to the movies.” Lance hummed in understanding, covering his full mouth as he spoke.

 

“That’s practical.” He nodded. “The last movie I went to see in theatres was _Coco._ I smoked a bowl and went to go watch it all by myself because I was excited to see it and I was in there with a bunch of kids just laughing it up and crying. This sad guy in his twenties watching it in the corner by himself with a huge tub of popcorn to himself.” Lance shrugged, and Keith snorted out a laugh.

 

“That sounds like a good time, though. I can see the appeal.” Keith smiled his disarming smile. “Do you make a habit of going by yourself?” It didn’t sound judgemental, just curious.

 

“Not really. Most of the time I go with Hunk. We play this game where we keep score of how many POC are the main characters in previews. The score’s gotten higher over the years but when we go to see horror movies?” Lance shook his head, reaching for the bag of grapes sitting by Keith’s legs and plucking a few.

 

“Considering the nature of horror movies, maybe that’s for the best.” Keith offered. After a bit of thought, Lance mostly agreed.

 

“I’d just love to see more movies like _Get Out._ ” Maybe he was trying to push the issue a little bit, just to see what Keith would say. Keith plucked a few grapes as well as he watched a few kids yelling from the swings.

 

_“3… 2… 1… jump!”_

 

“I think until Hollywood highlights more POC directors _Get Out_ is going to be a special case. It’s also a very political movie? I’m not sure if something that _wasn’t_ political would land very well.” Keith swallowed his grapes loudly.

 

“I guess you’re probably right.” Lance agreed. A soccer ball rolled its way over to their blanket, knocking over the picnic basket and its contents unceremoniously. A small kid toddled his way over with his dad, the older man apologizing profusely as Lance handed the soccer ball back to them with Keith setting the basket back in order. Thankfully there wasn’t anything spillable in the basket - juice pouches, water bottles, two 805’s that Lance was keen on drinking the second he saw them tumble out of the basket.

 

Was it appropriate to drink a huge can of beer in a park filled with children? Probably not, but Lance was 23 years old and it was after 5 p.m.

 

“ _805_? Are you trying to get me drunk on our first date?” Lance teased, reaching into the basket for the large cans. Keith flushed, shaking his head hastily.

 

“No, nothing like that. I just thought I should bring options. You worked today, right?” He accepted the can Lance passed him, hesitating when Lance patted the empty space next to him. After a moment he crawled over, settling down in Lance’s space and fiddling with the pull tab on the beer.

 

“Yeah, I did. Dress shopping.” Lance _probably_ shouldn’t talk to Keith about Allura since she was his client, but he _could_ ask about her since she was Keith’s friend. “She talk to you about it?” He pulled the tab on his own beer and took a sip, washing it down with another bite of his sandwich.

 

“No. I went over to Shiro’s the other day for dinner and she seemed excited about it. Did she find something she liked?” Keith leaned his cheek on his hand, looking up at Lance through his fringe. It sent butterflies careening in Lance’s stomach.

 

“No. I have to make another appointment for us.” The reflex to run back to his apartment and go through his large planner was strong, but he simply pulled out his phone to make a note of it and prayed that he’d remember later. “Everything looked good on her, of course. But she’s pretty picky.” She was _allowed_ to be picky; weddings were a pretty big deal.

 

“She’s always been like that.” Keith shrugged, deciding to crack open his beer and take a sip. Lance pushed the picnic basket out of the way so that he could stretch his legs out, unabashedly letting them merge into Keith’s space and tangle with his legs. Keith sipped his beer coyly but otherwise didn’t react. “I lived with them for a while and the worst was being home while she got ready for date night.”

 

Lance thought about all of the times he’d sit on his sisters’ beds while watching them try to pick outfits for their dates. No matter how much he insisted they looked good in what they wore they were still so picky about it. “That’s cute. She just wanted to look nice for him.” Lance couldn’t help but snort at the way Keith crinkled his nose up.

 

“Allura could walk around in the loosest set of sweats known to man and Shiro would still sweat and stutter when he sees her. I don’t get the fuss.” He took a longer sip of his beer this time.

 

“Well, you look great today so I think you _do_ get the fuss.” Lance poked his side and Keith flushed, looking down at himself.

 

“Sure, but first dates are different-”

 

“Are you trying to _fool me_ into thinking you don’t wear sweatpants?”

 

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

 

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t wear sweats, those jeans are pretty tight.”

 

“ _Lance._ ”

 

“Hey, hey, I’m kidding.” Lance laughed, placing a hand on Keith’s thigh in reassurance and pretending he wasn’t nervous about it. Keith huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and retracting his legs from where they were tangled in Lance’s to criss-cross them. Lance thought he’d royally screwed up until Keith rested his head on Lance’s shoulder. Silence descended over them, anxious but not entirely uncomfortable, as Lance stroked Keith’s thigh with his thumb and Keith made himself comfortable against Lance’s side. “You _do_ look great in those jeans, though.”

 

“Oh my god.” Keith covered his face with his hands, somehow seeming to morph further into Lance’s side. He was _probably_ doing it on purpose. “Thanks…” Keith muttered belatedly. Lance shrugged it off.

 

“It’s true.” He watched as some of the moms began to pack up their strollers and bags, yelling for their children to wrap it up. The sun was just starting to go down. A few middle schoolers were making their way from the skate portion of the park, elbow and knee pads on some and only beanies on others. Cars drove away while a few others drove up, adults making their way to the baseball field over the small creek. They both sipped their beer and listened to the crickets and idle, distant chatter.

 

“Wanna go on the swings?” Keith asked out of the blue.

 

“I’m not sure I can even swing on them. I’m all legs.” Lance wiggled his legs as if to make a point, and Keith smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Then I’ll push you.” He set his beer down and stood, holding a hand out to help Lance up. Lance accepted it, letting Keith pull him to his feet and swallowing thickly when Keith didn’t let go of his hand. When they got to the swings they parted, sitting on the swings next to each other. Keith was too tall for the swing but it was manageable if he delayed pumping his legs. Lance resorted to watching.

 

“Remember that episode of _Recess_ where that girl tried to go over the top of the swing set?” Keith asked as his weight dropped precariously back onto the swing on a particularly hard kick.

 

“If you tell me you’re about to do that I might shit out of anxiety.” It was out of Lance’s mouth before he could really think about it. Keith seemed to physically and mentally pause before he was laughing. Really, it wasn’t all that funny but Keith’s laugh was beautiful and contagious. Keith stopped swinging, coming to a stop in a crumple of giggles as he clung to the chains. “It really wasn’t that funny,” Lance laughed anyways.

 

“That’s just not how I expected you to answer, that’s all.” Keith unsteadily slid off the swing, humming thoughtfully. “Your turn.” Lance glanced down at his legs, knees considerably drawn up because they took up most of his height.

 

“I don’t think it’ll work even if you help.” He stated.

 

“Have any objection to spinning?” Keith asked. Lance shook his head, and without warning Keith began to spin him so that the chains twisted. He didn’t stop until Lance’s feet were well over the mulch, their eyes locking as Keith smiled at him. “3… 2… 1!” Keith let go and stepped back. It was anticlimactic at first, the chains slowly and unceremoniously untwisting until they gave a considerable drop. And then the world was spinning around him in a blur of purples and blues and greens and _Keith_. He tipped his head back, the swing unwinding faster with the extra weight, and when it was finally unraveled it left Lance a little breathless from laughing. Keith was smiling at him, hands shoved into his pockets away from the cold.

 

“I’m dizzy.”

 

“You good?”

 

“Yeah…” Lance paused, head resting against the chain as he looked at Keith. “I like you.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Lance chewed at his lip and looked down to scuff the ground with his foot, acutely embarrassed. He felt propelled back to elementary school, sitting on the swing set confessing his love to _Isabella Fuentes._ Except instead of being 8 years old he was 23, and instead of his biggest concern being what was for lunch his biggest concern was _literally everything_.

 

“I like you, too.” When Lance looked up at Keith he could basically _see_ it on Keith’s face. Yeah, this boy liked him. No one smiles like that at anyone they don’t have feelings for.

 

“Yeah?” Lance smiled, too.

 

“Yeah.”

 

After growing tired of the swings they retired back to the picnic blanket, finishing off the rest of their snacks and their beer (even though it was warm) and lying down to stare at the sky. There wasn’t much to see, because of the clouds in the sky, but still. Lance thought it was nice, holding Keith’s hand and talking quietly in the grass until it started to rain. As it drizzled they began to pack up, and were on Keith’s motorcycle as it started to really downpour, soaking them through their clothes as Keith sped them back to Lance’s apartment building.

 

“Want to come up?” Lance asked as he climbed off the back of the bike, shivering and crossing his arms over his chest as if it would help keep the heat in.

 

“I should-” Keith seemed to think for a moment, fidgeting at the gears. “Where can I park?” Lance pointed around the corner.

 

“The entrance to the parking is over there. I’ll wait for you.” Lance chewed at his lip nervously as he watched Keith speed off around the corner, stepping inside the building and shivering as the warmth enveloped him. His clothes felt pretty gross; sopping wet with rain water. But the night itself had gone nicely, he thought. When he saw Keith outside the doors he opened them, letting Keith in and leading the way to the elevator. Up on the sixth floor it seemed like the rain was more relentless, thunder growling across the sky as Lance led the way to his door and let Keith in first. It took a moment for him to register that the television was still going - that it meant his sister was still here and that he’d have to explain bringing Keith back. His anxiety was starting to claw its way back up his throat.

 

“Do you want a shower? You can borrow some clothes.” He offered as he peeled his shoes off of his feet. Keith began to take his boots off as well, his wet hair dripping onto the floor in the entranceway.

 

“Yeah, sure. That’d be nice.” He flipped his hair out of his face. Lance felt like if Keith were anyone else he would’ve minded getting splashed. He motioned for Keith to follow him. Valeria was still on the couch in her underwear. When she looked back to greet Lance she recoiled and grabbed the throw from the back of the couch.

 

“Wow, _thanks_ for telling me you were bringing someone over,” She snapped, face red. Keith politely averted his eyes.

 

“It was kind of last minute. This is Keith. Keith, this is my sister Valeria.” He introduced as he went through their linen cabinet to find a clean towel for Keith.

 

“Sorry for coming in unannounced.” Keith apologized, scratching at the back of his neck as Lance handed him the towel.

 

“It’s fine. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at _him._ ” Val pointed a finger at Lance, but Lance paid her no mind.

 

“You can shower first, Keith. I’ll leave some clothes by the door for you.” Lance peeled his jacket off of himself, scrunching his nose up at he draped it across the back of a dining room chair.

 

“Okay. Thanks.” Keith waddled his way to the multiple doors down the hallway.

 

“First door on your right.” Lance called out to him, watching Keith disappear inside. Once the door was closed Valeria rounded on him.

 

“ _You_ brought a boy home?” She was quick to abandon the throw blanket to lean over the couch and study him as he put water into the kettle.

 

“It’s not like that. It’s just because it’s raining.” Okay, it wasn’t _just_ because it was raining. It was because he didn’t really want his night with Keith to end, and this was the easiest solution to the problem.

 

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone.” If Lance didn’t know her he would think Valeria was just taking jabs at him, but he could hear the hurt in her voice.

 

“It was our first date. It’s not that serious.” He turned the kettle on and pushed a hand through his wet hair, leaning against the counter. “Do you want tea?”

 

“You _brought him home_ .” Valeria reiterated, as if Lance _didn’t know that_ when Keith was in their shared bathroom.

 

“Help yourself to the tea.” Lance walked away from her to go to his room, rooting around his things for clothes to let Keith borrow. He was lost in thought, a little terrified of the situation he’d just put himself in. It’d literally been a few years since he let someone come home with him; so maybe it was a bigger deal than he was trying to make it - than _Valeria_ was trying to make it, even. His therapist would be happy to know he was possibly having some improvement without realizing it. He shook his head, trying to shake it off before going back to find Keith clothes. He gave him a particularly pricey pair of gray sweatpants (they were _cozy_ ) and a t-shirt from when he’d volunteered in _New Zealand_ for a summer (because that was cozy too).

 

He placed them right outside the bathroom door along with a pair of new underwear he’d found in the corner of his drawer, and then went back to the kitchen. Valeria was dressed and had thrown her hair up into a messy bun. There were three mugs on the counter with tea bags inside. She was shoveling sugar into her own cup and was stirring idly.

 

“Val-”

 

“Sorry,” She interrupted immediately, “I was just… kind of shocked. I know how much that whole thing with Leslie hurt you so-”

 

“I’m _not_ talking about him right now.” Lance went around the island to grab his own cup of tea, grabbing the honey sitting on the counter and squeezing it in rather violently.

 

“I’m not trying to talk about him right now. I’m just saying I know it sucked and I’m just… happy you’re trying to be happy again.” Val wrapped her hands around her mug, trying to catch his eyes. He was staring stubbornly into his tea.

 

“Just because I was single doesn’t mean I was _sad_.”

 

“Not always.”

 

“Breakups just make people _sad,_ Valeria. You know that better than anybody!”

 

“He was different!” Valeria snapped back at him, and whatever Lance had been about to say disappeared on an exhale. “ _Stop_ trying to bully me when you fucking _know_ what I mean,” She hissed. The shower turned off in the bathroom and they both looked down into their mugs of tea.

 

“Sorry,” Lance sighed, too anxious to sound sincere. “I just-... didn’t think much of it until you mentioned it so now I’m kind of freaking out.” He leaned on the counter, glancing up when the bathroom door open and Keith’s arm emerged to grab the clothes on the floor. They both remained quiet until the door was closed again.

 

“I’m sorry. It’ll be fine, I promise.” Valeria picked up her mug and began to walk to her room.

 

Lance wasn’t sure if telling her he was mostly afraid of what came _after_ everything was completely fine was a good idea. Valeria disappeared into her room the moment Keith stepped out of the bathroom, and Lance tried not to focus too hard on the fact that Keith looked _really_ cute in his clothes.

 

“Want to put on a movie or something?” Lance offered, fidgeting as Keith wandered over with his hands tucked into the pockets of Lance’s sweats, feet tip-tapping on the tiled floor.

 

“Sure.” Lance handed him the cup of tea and Keith took it with wide eyes, visibly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” He sniffed the tea before setting it back on the counter to have a go at the sugar.

 

“I’m gonna shower. Make yourself at home, okay? You’re welcome to hang out.” He waved around the apartment vaguely, and Keith gave him a sheepish smile, nodding his head. Lance looked him up and down, flushing at the fact that Keith was still staring straight at him. What had gotten _into himself._

 

“Okay. Think of me fondly while you’re in there.” Keith called after him as Lance turned on his heel. He made an odd sound he didn’t know he could make (and was between a squawk and a groan) as he retreated into the bathroom, closing the door against Keith’s laughter.

 

It was actually a little anticlimactic, the way it turned out. They ended up catching _Interview With the Vampire_ about 45 minutes in, and had gotten so engrossed in the film that they hardly even talked to each other. Every time the commercials would come on one of them always got up to refill on tea or grab a snack, settling down closer and closer to each other each time one of them came back to sit on the couch. Even still, they were hardly touching by the time the credits came on. Lance’s forearm was half on the couch and half on Keith’s shoulder, and his knees were pushed up against Keith’s thigh but that was it. They both straightened up as the commercial for the next movie started to play. Lance looked back at the time, seeing midnight flashing across the clock on the microwave.

 

“I think it’s bed time.” He stood up and Keith followed. They put their mugs and dishes in the sink, and when Lance walked to his bedroom Keith walked back to the couch, planting himself on it and pulling the throw blanket across himself. Lance stood there for a moment; he should offer to let Keith share the bed with him. Or even let him just take the bed himself because Keith was a guest. But, maybe Keith was just setting boundaries. They hadn’t kissed at all on their date or afterwards. “Goodnight.” He fidgeted. Keith didn’t verbally respond, just waved his hand sleepily over the arm of the couch. Lance stepped into his room and made his way to his bed, climbing under the covers and staring at the ceiling.

 

He tossed and turned for about 45 minutes, listening to the rain that usually lulled him to sleep, when he gave up. He _wanted_ to sleep next to Keith. He wanted Keith beside him to hold on to, and feel under him, and nuzzle into. He pushed himself from his bed and shivered at the cold outside his covers. He quietly opened the door and peaked around the arm of the couch in the living room. There was a faint light shining. Lance quietly walked over, the only sound his feet pulling away from the tile.

 

“Keith…” He whispered, leaning over the head of the couch to look down at Keith, who was looking up at Lance from his phone.

 

“You okay?” Keith asked him, eyebrows pulling together. Lance toyed with the fluff on the couch as he tried to force the words from his brain to his mouth.

 

“Do you want to sleep with me?” As soon as it was out of his mouth he backtracked, whispering getting louder; “I mean- not like sex or anything, just like literally sleep. Not that I’m opposed to sex either because you’re hot but I just mean-. You know what I mean.” _God_ he was just embarrassing himself now. Keith blinked up at him owlishly, perplexed, before he was snorting into his shoulder in laughter. Lance laughed weakly with him, wishing he could erase this whole conversation.

 

“Yeah. Yeah I want to sleep with you. The way you meant.” Keith clicked the lock button on his phone, leaving them in the dark as Keith stood from the couch. Lance grabbed his hand and led him to bed, climbing in and settling back. Keith settled in, too, his arm brushing Lance’s. They laid there like that awkwardly for a bit until Lance gave into the urge to take Keith’s hand, scooting in closer to him and turning onto his side. Lance stared at Keith and Keith stared at the ceiling, the sound of rain outside the window steady around them. Keith was stroking his hand with his thumb, and Lance was just enjoying the view.

 

After a while Keith rolled onto his side, free hand coming up to stroke Lance’s cheek. Lance let his eyes flutter shut, nuzzling into Keith’s hand, and after an anxious second planted a kiss straight to the center of Keith’s palm. Keith paused, and then his thumb was tracing over Lance’s lips and _God_ Lance felt like he couldn’t breathe. Keith leaned in, hovering in his space as if waiting for Lance to back away. When he didn’t Keith closed the rest of the space between them, kiss light and hesitant. It was short, and sweet, and when Keith pulled away Lance realized he hadn’t had enough. He pulled Keith back to him, pressing himself into Keith’s body and whimpering when he was pressed back into the sheets so that Keith was on top of him. Both of his hands found their way into Keith’s hair, tangling in and keeping Keith reined in. To be fair, it didn’t seem like Keith was particularly eager to separate, and while at first he’d been cautious his kisses were enthusiastic and a little filthy after being attached at the mouth for five minutes.

 

Lance gulped air into his lungs as Keith began to move down, kissing down his neck and sending Lance squirming. Keith tongueing at his neck sent his toes curling, and he let out a moan loud enough for them both to pause at the mixture of pain and pleasure that was Keith sucking _mercilessly_ at his neck. When there was no indication that Valeria had heard them they both crumbled. Keith collapsed on top of them as they snickered, Keith’s breath hot on Lance’s neck.

 

“What are you, sixteen? What’s the hickey for?” There was no bite to it, mostly because Lance felt on cloud nine and didn’t have it in himself.

 

“Just got carried away. Sorry.” Keith slid off of him, keeping his head resting on Lance’s chest.

 

“It’s okay. I liked it.” Lance whispered back, rooting one of his hands into Keith’s hair. Keith’s eyes fluttered shut, and he seemingly made himself more comfortable. He didn’t ask if they were going to do anything else - he didn’t say that he definitely _wanted_ to do something else. But Lance thought it was kind of nice the way things were, even if his shorts _were_ a little tighter. “Hey, Keith?”

 

“Your heart is beating fast.” Keith nuzzled into Lance’s shirt. Lance felt like he might’ve died and gone to heaven.

 

“Yeah. You make me nervous. Not bad nervous, though.” Not completely anyways. Keith propped himself up on his elbow, resting his cheek in his hand as him and Lance looked at each other. “Keith?”

 

“Mhm?”

 

“... Can we go out on a second date?” He felt pathetic for asking. It probably wasn’t a great idea to ask right then and there; what if Keith felt obligated to say yes? What if Keith just _left_?

 

“I’d like that. I have to take you to see those kittens.”

 

Lance chuckled, pushing himself onto his forearm so that he could press a kiss to Keith’s lips. He settled back down and let himself enjoy the feeling of Keith on his chest, not even minding as Keith began to snore quietly. His eyes began to droop shut, and then he was out like a light.

 

Christmas’s were always really dramatic and really big. Lance’s family always went over to Hunk’s house, which means Lance was surrounded almost _entirely_ by women and the only other testosterone in the house was Hunk, who was too sweet for his own good and entirely wrapped up in Shay. It was nice to see Gloria and his mom, though, and Valeria seemed more cheerful, too, so he couldn’t really complain much. Well, he wasn’t _going to_ complain, at least. Admittedly he was kind of distracted by his phone - Keith had been texting him while at work, complaining about people waiting until the last minute to get things done.

 

_“like twenty people are wanting me to do personalized arrangements by tomorrow so they can pick them up at like 6 am”_

 

He’d texted Lance. Lance was only happy to engage in conversation, because he’d been booted out of the huge game of _Spoons_ going on, anyways. He pushed himself away from the table and went to the living room, curling up on the loveseat and chewing his lip as he replied.

 

_“20 ppl? sounds kinda dramatic”_

 

Keith replied almost immediately.

 

_“i wish i were being dramatic. i took half of them and declined the rest. apparently no one cares if i sleep.”_

 

Lance pouted, sending a sad emoji followed by a heart. He looked up at the game of _Spoons_. Hunk was being booted out.

 

_“i care if u sleep ! make sure to go to bed so you can get presents from santa”_

 

He locked his phone as Hunk wandered over to the living room, groaning as he sprawled across the couch and looked at his watch. “You lost, too?” He asked. Hunk nodded, tilting his head back to look at Lance.

 

“Yeah. Shay keeps cheating.”

 

“I have not been cheating!”

 

It was hard to imagine Shay cheating, but he wasn’t about to question the look her and Hunk were sharing. _Blegh._

 

“Look, at least I beat Lance, alright?” Hunk threw a playful look at him and Lance couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Lance usually won _Spoons_ , but it’s not his fault he’d been waiting for Keith to text him all day. He’d willingly thrown the game; his reflexes were _great_.

 

“Hey hey, don’t drag me into your weird scuffle.” Lance pointed at Hunk, who was already laughing heartily and getting more comfortable on the couch. Lance’s phone _dinged_ and he glanced down at it again to read Keith’s text, even though Hunk was talking to him.

 

_“i don’t want anything from santa all he gives me is coal”_

 

A smiled quirked at Lance’s lips. “Sorry, Hunk. What was that?” He glanced back up to see his best friend grinning at him. They both paused, and then without warning Hunk was moving to attempt to swipe at his phone. “Oi! Nonononono!” He tried to flail out of reach but Hunk was considerably taller than him and easily made up the distance, prying the phone out of Lance’s hand and glancing down at the message.

 

“I _knew it!_ Shay, you owe me twenty dollars!” He called out.

 

“You don’t even know what’s going on!” Lance objected, just a little bit heated that Hunk and Shay were placing bets on his budding relationship with Keith.

 

“I know enough. You like Keith.” Hunk gave him the phone back without any fuss, and Lance hugged it to his chest, perturbed at his privacy being ruined.

 

“Who’s Keith?” Sonia, one of Hunk’s moms, asked curiously from the game of spoons.

 

“Lance’s boyfriend~” Hunk singsonged. Lance flushed, burying his face in his arms in an attempt to get away from the conversation.

 

“Oh! When do we get to meet him?” Jenn, Hunk’s other mom, asked.

 

“Never.” Lance grumbled stubbornly, so embarrassed he was almost sweating. Sonia and Jenn laughed. “And he’s not even my boyfriend yet.”

 

“Lance brought him home.” Valeria quipped unhelpfully, and Lance pointed and laughed at her when her reply cost her the game. She pushed herself out from the table and Hunk made room for her on the couch.

 

“It was _one date_.” He insisted. That just made it worst.

 

“Didn’t mom teach you not to put out on the first date?” Gloria’s comment came so casually that if she were anyone else he would’ve been insulted, on behalf of himself _and_ his mom, who was too engrossed on the game to react.

 

“Oh my god. I’m leaving and never coming back.” He was irritated that everyone was laughing at his expense, but honestly it was better than everyone being sad. There had been a few years where everyone was down in the dumps on Christmas and it had absolutely sucked.

 

“Well. Hopefully we’ll get to meet him.” His mom finally chimed in, even though she was still concentrating on the game. It was just her, Gloria, Shay, and Jenn playing now.

 

“You could always FaceTime him.” Valeria suggested, as if Lance _wanted_ Keith to meet everyone at this exact moment in time.

 

“No thanks,” He denied immediately, going back to look at his phone. He pulled up his conversation with Keith and quickly replied;

 

“ _why coal? are you naughty? ;)”_

 

Lance quickly locked it and pushed himself to his feet to turn the television on, glaring when Gloria stole the loveseat. His phone buzzed, indiscreet as he narrowed his eyes at his sisters, deciding to sit on the floor rather than sit between Val and Hunk, who were both looking at him pointedly, obviously nosy about whatever conversation he was having.

 

To his credit, Lance managed to ignore the text for a while, caught up in the typical _Harry Potter_ reruns on _Freeform_ that always came around Christmas (and Halloween, and every other holiday). The third movie was currently playing, which was Lance’s favorite even though it was just a little bit awful. He only remembered he had a text to reply to when his phone went off again. He glanced down at his phone, seeing a text from Valeria on the lock screen above Keith’s reply.

 

He ignored Valeria’s text, solely because it was a meme he didn’t feel like looking at, and decided to open Keith’s instead.

 

_“i was told i have a discipline issue in the military so i guess yeah”_

 

Lance groaned, placing his forehead on the floor and cradling his phone to his chest. He decided he kind of hated Keith.

 

_“a bad boy with a flower shop. i think i understand you now.”_

 

He looked up at the screen to watch Ron get dragged under the Whomping Willow by Sirius Black.

 

“You know I always shipped Harry and Hermione,” Valeria said as they watched Hermione throw Harry down into the burrow. Hunk and Gloria both turned to grimace at her.

 

“But her and Ron were always meant to be together and you can clearly tell.” Gloria pointed at the screen, even though her point wasn’t being made with Hermione landing on top of Harry as she tumbled down after him.

 

“Ron was always kind of mean to her and she deserves someone that’s going to treat her well!” Val insisted. Hunk looked like he was considering Valeria’s point, but Gloria was having none of it.

 

“Whatever, Val.” She rolled her eyes and went back to watching the movie. Lance followed her lead, propping his chin up on his hands to continue watching. He was getting a little infuriated - this whole scene would be done fast if they’d exposed the real killer the second Harry stepped through the door but _no._ His phone buzzed on the floor.

 

_“well i’m glad you do, then.”_

 

Lance chewed at his lip, tapping his phone idly in thought.

 

_“(: can i call you when you get home?”_

 

The thought bubble came up immediately.

 

_“yeah, i’ll text you (:”_

 

Lance sent back another smiley face, feeling a little excessive as he shoved his phone into his pocket and went back to the movie. On screen, Professor Lupin was turning into a werewolf.

 

“... _Ohhhh._ ” Hunk drawled from the couch, looking perplexed. “His name’s Lupin because-. Okay. I didn’t get that when I was younger.”

 

* * *

 

 

The house was packed, and by the time New Years came around Lance was _dying_ to leave. He loved Hunk and Shay, but rooming with them was not ideal and he’s sure they wanted their privacy, too. Still, it felt rude to say bye and just fuck off to a hotel, so he stuck around even though listening to Hunk and Shay whisper sweet nothings into each others ears all night breached on a type of voyeurism Lance wasn’t comfortable with. He mostly stayed under the covers of his air mattress, pretending to be asleep with the backlight on his phone all the way down as he texted Keith, and when he’d call Keith he’d wander all the way outside to bounce on the trampoline and talk.

 

Jennifer and Sonia always threw a big bash for New Years, with lots of great food and a bunch of their work friends and neighbors. In high school, Hunk and Lance would make an excuse to go to some other party - that would let them be reckless and drink like they were on a bender and kiss a bunch of people at midnight. Since Hunk and Shay had gotten married they always stayed at Hunk’s moms’ party.

 

This year felt different.

 

His mom was talking to _some guy_ , who Lance guessed seemed okay but still sent Lance on a bit of a spiral anyways. Hunk and Shay were in the kitchen making more food, being disgustingly cute over the pan they were preparing. Jenn and Sonia were always having a good time, curled up together on the loveseat and chatting to their coworkers looking like a prime example of The American Dream.

 

Gloria had made friends with some of the neighbor people, and she was laughing over a glass of champagne. Valeria seemed to be sharing in Lance’s oddly timed misery, drinking from a red solo cup of what Lance assumed was jungle juice. He decided to follow her lead, grabbing a solo cup from the kitchen and dipping it into the punch, sipping out of it as he wandered his way over to his sister. They both stood against the wall, probably looking like a pair of Debbie Downer’s as they avoided speaking to each other. Lance felt like he was downing the jungle juice too fast because he wasn’t talking.

 

“Why are you moping?”

 

“I’m not even moping. I’m just-...” Lance glanced around the party, at all of the couples, and all of the people that seemed to have been able to pick themselves up and dust themselves off. “I don’t know. You ever feel like you just don’t fit in?”

 

Valeria snorted, pushing herself from the wall and motioning for him to follow her. He followed her upstairs, leaning against the doorway of the guest room she’d been sharing with Gloria and their mom. She shoved something into her pocket and then walked back down the steps. Lance followed curiously, down the stairs and out the back door, past where the barbecue was sizzling something away with the lid closed, and to the trampoline. Lance’s only objection was that he had to put down his solo cup, but put it down anyways on the grass and climbed on after his sister. They both sat near the center, and Valeria pulled out whatever she’d hidden in her pocket.

 

“Is that a weed pen?”

 

“Yeah. So?” Valeria offered it to him. Lance debated. Smoking weed - especially in the middle of the day - felt like something an even sadder version of himself would do, or something he would do with Hunk and his moms after a shitty day where they all just had to say _fuck it._

 

Lance took the pen and inhaled. He didn’t take much, handing it back to Valeria and tugging his knees to his chest.

 

“What’s going on?” Val asked him, devoid of attitude for a change. Ever since her and her ex boyfriend Brett broke up Valeria had been acting different. Lance liked her better this way; when she’d dated Brett it was like she was constantly holding her breath, always on the defensive and easy to snap. He didn’t know much about Val’s latest ex, but he didn’t have to to know that he didn’t bring out the best in Valeria. Neither had the boyfriend before Brett or her last husband. Now, it seemed like it was easier for her to breathe. She seemed sad, too, though. “Lance?” She exhaled smoke.

 

He realized he hadn’t answered her question, not that he knew how to answer, anyways. “Nothing’s even going on. I just feel…” Like maybe he needed to take his therapist up on trying antidepressants, or something. That’s what he felt like.

 

“Did something happen with Keith?” There was an edge to the question. Lance shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

 

“No. Nothing out of the ordinary.” He took the pen back from her, fidgeting with it as he thought about how to describe what he was feeling. “I don’t know, Christmas time just makes me feel weird. Everyone being happy families and stuff - or at least pretending they’re happy, you know? But we’re not. Not really. It just feels like holidays are a band-aid on a stab wound or something.” Lance finished with another toke of the pen. Valeria glanced back towards the house, making a grabby hand for the pen. Lance passed it.

 

“They kind of are, I guess.” Valeria admitted, but after another moment of thought she continued. “Sure, it’s not long term happiness, but when is happiness permanent, anyways? I think holidays are a good excuse to try to brighten up.”

 

“Is that why you were slouching in the corner and drinking jungle juice by yourself?”

 

“You know what, you can piss off, alright?” Valeria grimaced and shoved him over. Lance didn’t resist, letting himself topple onto the trampoline and turning onto his back to look at the sky. He could hear Val take a long inhale from the pen as she collapsed next to him, watching the cloud of smoke as it rose and disbursed against the blue sky. They both glanced back as they heard the sliding door open. Jenn waved to them as she began to attend to the food on the barbecue.

 

“I missed you, Val.” Lance said to the sky. Valeria dropped the pen onto his chest.

 

“We literally live together.”

 

“Sure, but we spend most of the time ignoring each other.” Lance shrugged, grabbing the pen and taking in a huge inhale. Val remained quiet. “Wanna bounce?” He asked after a second of holding his breath. Valeria sighed and stood, offering her hands out to Lance and pulling him to his feet.

 

“Double bounce me,” She demanded, beginning to jump. Lance rolled his eyes but abided anyways, missing her jump twice before finally propelling her into the air. She was quiet, but she was smiling, so at least that was something. They took turns double bouncing each other and shoving each other around the trampoline until they were too winded to continue.

 

The weed left him feeling featherlight and just a little unfocused. The party was fun after that, the lack of focus letting him enjoy everything around him in the moment. He won two games of _Just Dance,_ had stuffed his face full of barbecue until he felt a little sick, and was enjoying a game of _Connect Four_ against Hunk and Shay when the ball began to drop. Everyone stood and gathered in excitement. A few people were already counting eagerly.

 

_57! 56! 55! 54! …_

 

He was painfully aware that he was… very alone. He glanced around to look for Valeria but she wasn’t around - Lance hadn’t seen her since they’d come inside from smoking and bouncing on the trampoline. Jenn and Sonia sauntered up arm-in-arm to hand him a flute of champagne that he knew he was supposed to drink at midnight but he downed it all immediately, much to their amusement. Thirty seconds to midnight he could feel his phone going off in his pocket. He dug it out of his jeans and stared down at the contact name.

 

_Keef ♡_

 

Lance picked it up immediately; he could hear counting on the other side of Keith’s line.

 

“Hello?” Keith shouted into the phone. Lance glanced at the television at the clock ticked down.

 

“I’m gonna go outside!” Lance shouted back at him. He stepped out of the sliding glass doors and shuffled his way to the trampoline, rolling on and staring at the dark sky. It was another moment before everything on Keith’s line went quiet.

 

“Hey, can you hear me?” Keith asked. Lance could feel his chest fill with warmth at the sound of Keith’s voice right in his ear.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can hear you.” Lance could hear the party poppers going off inside the house - hear the cheers across the neighborhood and fireworks going off in the distance somewhere. Dogs were barking like crazy down the street.

 

“Happy New Year.” They said at the same time, and then dissolved into laughter.

 

“Sorry for calling you. I don’t want to pull you away from your family or anything, I just-...” Keith trailed off, letting out an _“uhm.”_

 

“I wish you were here so you could be my New Year’s kiss.” Even though Lance was alone he still spoke quietly into the receiver.

 

“Hm. I guess I owe you one, then.” He could hear the smile in Keith’s voice.

 

“Yeah. I guess you do.” Lance looked back to the house as his name was called. Gloria was waving him inside with an obnoxious kazoo. “Sorry, I have to go. I’m glad you called, though.” He reluctantly climbed off of the trampoline, taking his time as he walked back towards the house.

 

“No, it’s okay. We’ll talk later. Happy New Year, Lance.” They hadn’t even hung up yet and Lance missed him already.

 

“Happy New Year, Keith.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lance had always _hated_ Valentine’s Day, when rom-coms were on television all day and the influx of his emails went through the roof because of everyone thinking it was original to get engaged on the holiday. And the chocolate and the cards? A rip off. Relationships? Not exactly the magical land that movies liked to pretend they were.

 

Lance had predicted he’d be busy all day, so he’d nixed the idea of spending any time with Keith, who was _also_ busy as hell because of the influx of people buying flowers. When Lance had called him earlier Keith’s employee Pidge had picked up the phone, saying “Keith said he’ll call you back when he’s not in the crossfires of hell incarnate”. He felt like he _should_ say something to Keith. They hadn’t exactly put a label on what they were doing, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t at least wish Keith a happy Valentine’s Day, even though his gut told him that Keith probably hated it just as much.

 

When he got a knock on the door at 11pm he was confused. He looked up from his place on the couch, where he was watching _Star Trek: Into Darkness_ as an act of Valentine’s Day protest, glasses perched on his face and laptop in his lap. He glanced at the time in confusion, looked down at his phone to see if anyone had texted him to say they were coming over (no one had), and then went to look through the peephole, tiptoeing along the way. Keith was on the other side of the door, rocking back and forth on his feet. Lance opened the door cautiously, pausing at the huge bouquet Keith was holding in his arms.

 

“Uhm, hi…” Lance flushed, feeling hideously underdressed in his flannel shorts and ratty old band t-shirt. Keith looked _good_ , even though he was literally just wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a gray _Army_ t-shirt with a leather jacket.

 

“Hey. Uh.” Keith held the bouquet out to him, face red and staring determinedly into Lance’s eyes. “Happy Valentines Day…” It sounded more like a question than a declaration. “Hunk told me you hate Valentine’s Day so I didn’t want to bother you, but-...”

 

Lance took the bouquet from him, looking down at all of the orange hues and feeling warmth fill his stomach. “I _do_ hate Valentine’s Day.” He stated plainly. “The only good thing is the discount chocolate the day after, right?”

 

Keith shrugged, looking sheepish. “I don’t mind Valentine’s Day,” he admitted.

 

Okay, so maybe Lance screwed up.

 

He carefully cradled the bouquet and motioned for Keith to come inside, shutting the door behind them and wandering into the kitchen. The one flower vase they had was filled with extra change and pens and packs of gum. Lance emptied it.

 

Keith wandered in after him, looking a little out of place and slightly uncomfortable, probably because neither of them knew how to navigate this weird… whatever it was.

 

The bouquet had a note attached; one side was care instructions and the other was in Keith’s surprisingly neat handwriting.

 

“ _Thank you for the past few months. You mean a lot to me and I hope you get some rest today. Love, Keith”_

 

Short and sweet. Lance could feel the butterflies in his stomach waking up. “Did you make this?” Lance asked as he flipped over the note to read the directions.

 

“Uh… yeah, I did.” Keith took a seat at the bar, removing the hair tie from his hair to fidget with it. At least he looked more normal in here with his leather jacket off, and Lance didn’t have to think too hard about the _multiple holes in the shirt he was wearing._

 

“What’s the symbolism for orange?” He located the plant food and poured it into the vase, getting out the kettle to measure the amount of water (which he normally wouldn’t do, but Keith had made this bouquet for him and like hell he was going to let it die right away) and pouring it in so he could mix it.

 

Keith fidgeted some more. “It’s a combination of friendship and… love.” He kind of choked on the word. Lance decided not to grill him, he probably would’ve choked, too. He started to mix the plant food with the water, trying to stir quietly so that Valeria wouldn’t come out.

 

“Well, thank you for these. You really didn’t have to do anything for me.” Especially since he hadn’t done anything for Keith. Wow, he was the worst.

 

“I know I didn't. I wanted to, though.” When Lance looked up there was a slanted smile on Keith’s face. “I should probably go, though. I know you probably had a long day.” He slid off the barstool, and Lance suddenly hated the idea of him leaving.

 

“I mean, I did have a long day. But I like spending time with you.” Lance placed the bouquet in the vase - well, he was able to fit most of it. Keith stood there awkwardly. “You should stay. The night.” Lance toyed with a rose petal, gingerly thumbing over it.

 

“I don’t mind going. You don’t have to like, let me stay because I gave you something-”

 

“I know I don’t have to. I want you to stay.”

 

They were both kind of frustrated with each other and it was obvious and stupid. Lance maintained that he still hated Valentine’s Day.

 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily. Keith padded his way over and wrapped him up in his arms. Lance returned the embrace, burying his face into Keith’s neck and groaning in annoyance at himself.

 

“You’re fine. Really.” Keith squeezed tighter and Lance hitched a leg over Keith’s hip, grumbling incoherently. They seemed to grapple for a moment until Lance was wrapped around Keith like a koala, somehow managing to feel six years old as Keith kept him up by the knees, rocking back and forth in a way that was quickly lulling Lance to sleep.

 

“I was about to say I’m surprised you can even pick me up but then I remembered you were a field nurse.” Lance could feel Keith’s laugh rumble in his chest.

 

“Yeah.” Keith turned and started walking. Lance lifted his face from Keith’s neck to watch the television as he was carried into his room. Keith made to put him on the bed but Lance clung on stubbornly, whining in the back of his throat.

 

“Don’t leave.” Did he have any dignity left? Lance didn’t think so.

 

“ ‘m not leaving. I’m just gonna turn all the lights off and stuff. I’ll be back.” It was enough to placate him. He let Keith drop him onto the bed, and Lance watched him leave to go turn off all of the lights in the living room and kitchen, the television going dark without any fanfare as Keith pressed the remote and then made his way back to Lance’s room. Lance climbed under the covers, watching Keith strip his jeans before climbing in beside him. Lance was on him again in an instant, draping himself over Keith’s body.

 

“What time do you go to work?” Lance asked.

 

“9 o’clock.” Keith muttered, fingers playing with Lance’s short hair.

 

“Can I buy you breakfast?” Lance nuzzled into Keith’s neck.

 

“Sure,” he agreed, sounding tired.

 

“... Sorry about today.”

 

It was barely audible. Lance wasn’t even entirely sure it’d made any noise when coming out of his mouth, until Keith held him tighter and kissed his temple.

 

“I’m sorry, too.”

 

“We should probably communicate better.” Lance scrunched his nose up. Keith huffed and nodded his head.

 

“Yeah. We’ll work on that.”

 

Lance didn’t reply, shutting his eyes and listening to the sound of Keith’s heartbeat against his ear. Keith’s breathing evened out underneath him. Lance fell asleep soon after.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @ [dwreed](http://dwreed.tumblr.com/) or twitter @ [dwreeds](https://twitter.com/dwreeds)! c: come say hi.


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